


Sunderance

by Kulkum



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Noir, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:23:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 84,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kulkum/pseuds/Kulkum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a city ruled by predators...<br/>With one species as their Alpha...<br/>Welcome to the Fox Den.</p><p> </p><p>The result of a mad collaboration between myself and TheWyvernsWeaver (Artist of the Club Scene is Zistopia.)</p><p>I provide the fan fictions, and he draws a comic around it. Insane?! Yeap. But it is beautiful to behold. Check out the comic here. Forever every chapter that I post, there will be a new chapter to the comic.  <a href="http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Prologue-A-Key-to-the-City-630987394">Sunderance: Prologue</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

     “Miss Hopps! Miss Hopps!” came the sound of yet another annoying reporter, and as it was with many things in the real world, the one with the loudest voice was the one that got the most attention. And tiny white and gray finger pointed at the bear, a fluffy bunny face with high set ears nodded in his direction, and the question came. “Do you really intend to take this battle to Zootopia?”

    “I do,” came a much more agreeably feminine, if naïve, voice. Such a stern tone. So sure of her righteousness and dedicated to the ‘cause.’ Seeing her on TV, the way the camera zoomed in on her face to make her look larger than she actually was, some poor fools might even believe her. “I have received permission from the Administration to bring my case before higher courts within the city. I have even been given office space, so I can move through with any legal battles that are to follow.”

    More shouts for attention, and the figure watching the large screen swirled the glass of amber liquid in his paw easily. He watched the melee of reporters continue their pleasantly civil assault on the poor country bunny through the crystal in silence.

    “Do you really believe that Otterton is innocent, Miss Hopps? All reports indicate that he was found over the body with the bloody murder weapon in his possession.”

    This one was a vixen. Cute. Snow white fur, proper demeanor, pretty suit jacket and a skirt that even the camera could see was a little shorter than it needed to be. In his younger years he might have considered looking her up at her news station, charming her into a few drinks, which would end with him sliding her out of that pretty ivory outfit and onto him. Now? His eyes were on the bunny. That innocent, foolish little bunny. She was walking into a den of foxes, giving herself up as meat and she didn’t even realize it.

    “I believe that Mr. Otterton has been framed,” the fluff ball continued, and his eyes narrowed as he lowered the glass to see her clearly. “His history of speaking out against the corruption of the government has earned him…”

    Pausing the screen, he drew himself to his feet quickly. Setting the untouched scotch on the wooden surface of the side table, the fox made his way into the kitchen with a dismissive grunt. She would be dead soon enough. There was no ‘act of good faith’ as the Administrator had called it, no help in uncovering the corruption that had led to Otterton’s arrest. She was going to be made an example of; she would either vanish, or become the victim of some random act of violence. Perhaps kill herself. Yes, that would have been a likely scenario. Devious, no way to trace it to anyone but her own paw, but obvious at the same time. A lesson to anyone who tried to interfere with how things worked in the city proper now.

    Self-disgust had him prowling beyond the kitchen, tail high and ears folded back as guilt crawled over him and infected him like a parasite; a feeling that had him stripping off his shirt as he walked. Not guilt for the bunny. She was making her own bed with this, and it was her fault for being stupid enough to think that one carrot farmer could change anything in a city rotting from the inside out.

    It wasn’t the idea of her blood in the streets, or soaking into the carpet of whatever coffin they called her office that caused his hackles to raise as he slid his fingers into the grappling gloves.

_Foolish. Wasteful._

    There was something deeper than the idea of those determined, energetic violet eyes milky in death that had the slim but powerful build of the fox skipping the light warm up punches.

_Irrelevant. Hopeless._

    His muzzle twisted, lips drawn back from his teeth as the blows – blows which caused the bag to jump violently and the support stand to grind across the concrete floor despite the weights that held it down – came more often and with greater force.

_Defenseless. Unprepared._

    It wasn’t enough. Chest rising and falling quickly as he panted, he stripped the gloves off in a rush brought on by the deep set anger he thought he had killed years ago. He felt the sting of the first blow of bare knuckles on leather, and every blow after that.

_Brave. Strong._

    Growling now. He hadn’t growled in years. He told himself it was the pain of ill-timed blows as he tried to vent his fury, his guilt. His fault. She was going to die, and it was his fault. The world he had allowed to be would grind her into nothing.

 _Bright_.

_Beautiful._

_Extinguished._

    The snarl escaped him like a scream, and his claws set into the bag as the impossible thoughts boiled into fury. Tearing, ripping. Muscles bunched and straining as he gutted his own guilt until the sand within spilled freely onto the floor under the destroyed bag. Aching muscles and exhaustion should have eased emotion, the release should have calmed the confusion of his thoughts. The scent of his own fur and sweat sickened him, reminded him that nothing about him had actually changed. He was still a twisted, confused mess of a male.

    He returned to the main room, breathing slowing as he took up the glass again and stared at the frozen image of the doomed bunny. Had he thought she was beautiful? Her muzzle was too short, her ears too long, her features soft, the fur a bland mix of grey and white. Nothing special, nothing interesting. Prey. But maybe it was the eyes. Vibrant amethyst, full of everything that had died in the city years ago. Everything that had died in him. He raised the glass in his hand, brought it to his lips, so close that the pungent spice of the fine liquor burned his nose.

    He stared into those eyes as he lowered it, placed it carefully on the table, and picked up his phone.

 _1826_.

 

* * *

 

    Two hundred and fifty-seven numbers. Agencies ranging from the Rainforest District to the Nocturnal District and everything between. Those had been the first, and while they had been polite for the most part, they had also been direct; there was nothing they could do to protect a bunny in Zootopia. Then she had turned to the mercenaries with good reputations, and had been stone walled. Again, there was nothing they could do to protect a bunny in Zootopia. Private investigators, less reputable guns for hire, the ZIA, the diplomatic corps; she had even, in a moment of desperation, attempted to contact the Tundratown Mafia and had been advised to just stay out of the city.

_“Will you have protection while in the city? Do you feel safe?”_

    Exhausted, listless eyes rose to the small screen on her desk. She kept the news running constantly, staying up to date with the basics, and now her own face stared back at her. A face that for the first time in the media conference showed doubt for the span of a breath before she replied, “Because the ZPD cannot offer twenty four hour protection, I am looking into various agencies and organizations…” _Like organized crime_ , she thought bitterly. “…without luck so far. I still have multiple venues open to me, and I am certain someone will step up for what’s right.”

    Those last words, had they sounded as desperate as she felt? Had there been a plea at the end of her statement, a hope that somewhere someone with a soul was listing and would help her? Or was it just her imagination, her own doubts creeping in as she turned her gaze from the screen when the conference finished. Turned it back to the list.

    Two hundred and fifty-seven numbers, and only two left.

    One came with no name, but had a stupid catch phrase beside it. ‘We do anything, so you don’t have to.’ It sounded more like an advertisement for a maid service than any sort of protection she could rely on. The last number simply had a name beside it.

_Finnick._

    She ignored that name for now, because she knew who and what he was. Even the stupid catch phrase was a step up from a fox and a pimp. Drawing a deep breath, she took up the cell phone and dialed the number.

    “What’cho need done?”

    The fact that the voice, and the accent that went along with it was reminiscent of those poorly directed gangland movies she had been forced to sit through with her brothers almost had her releasing a groan. Instead, she rested her forehead on her hand and closed her eyes.

    “Hello. My name is Judith Hopps. I’m trying to…”

    “Oh ya, you’re that bunny from the TV,” the voice cut her off, the sound of amusement so thick that she wanted to reach through the phone to strangle him. “What can I do for ya, cutesy?”

    The twist in her stomach almost had bile rising into her throat at the causally speciest slang, but she forced her stomach to calm. “I’m looking for someone to help me. I will need someone to act as security for myself and my offices while I am in the city. And I…”

    “Oh ho, no,” he cut her off again, this time with an almost regretful laugh. “Nuttin doing. I ain’t putting my tail on the line for no bunny. You want protection, you call tha cops.”

    “Look, I just need-”

    The sound of total silence from her phone told her loud and clear what the final answer was, and with a cry of anger, she slammed the phone down onto her desk. Dropping her head into her paws, she trembled with frustration and battled the despair that threatened to bring tears to her eyes; tears that did bring a mist to cloud her vision for a moment before she was able to blink it away. Between her fingers, she gazed down at the list that now only contained one name.

    She had come this far. She wasn’t going to let the cowards in Zootopia stop her. She would call this last number, and then she would start from scratch. She would go through the list again. She would offer more, and then find a way to get it. She would threaten. She would beg. Anything she had to do to get…

    The phone lying face down beside the list began to buzz against the surface of the table, and she blinked once when she lifted her head from her paws. Picking it up, she stared down at the screen for a long moment.

_Unknown Number._

    She had received various threats already, warnings, and countless calls from the media since the announcement of her trip to Zootopia had been made. She had been sending them to voice mail. And she moved her hand to do so now.

    And found herself pressing the phone to her ear instead. “Hello?”

    “Judith Laverne Hopps?” The voice was masculine, professionally crisp, and if she had to put words to it, just a little cool.

    “This is Hopps.”

    There was a beat of silence. And then another, and she started wonder if the caller had disconnected when the voice came again.

    “I can protect you.”


	2. Carrots and Blueberries

    A suitcase had never looked so ominous, at least in the eyes of her parents; her brothers and sisters; her aunts and uncles; her neighbors and friends. Just a single suitcase that held everything she would need until she established herself in the city, from clothing to her most needed office supplies and beauty products. It was an unwieldy old thing. Square, metal trim, a lining that had fallen out years ago, a hard outer shell that was meant to protect things that really weren’t that fragile anyway. Bulky, unattractive, lime green with a white carrot print on either side, with the customary snaps that locked with an actual full sized key. It had gone out of style decades ago, but it was the only one she had. Her parents had never expected one of their kits to leave the Burrow.

    The same parents that were using the suit case to stop her from leaving the house. Again. Stu Hopps’ paw gripped the handle, which was thankfully durable, to pull her back towards him. She allowed him to pull her to a stop, though she didn’t budge from the threshold of the door. Of course, they would see her walking out as a sign that she was really going through with it, as if the front door had ever been a barrier to hold her in. But the truth was more complicated. To her, she was already in Zootopia. Her mind, her work, her heart and her future were in the city.

    Her body was simply running late.

    “Dad, please stop,” she said softly, dropping her ears when she put the suitcase down for the tenth time that morning. She was tired of arguing, tired of seeing the fear and sorrow in her mother’s eyes and the panic in her father’s. Her mother, at least, had stopped crying. She didn’t dare think that the pretty, plump faced older bunny had simply run out of tears before closing herself off in the kitchen. “I have to do this. I _want_ to do this. I’ve been working for months just to get permission to take over the Otterton defense, not to mention the hell I went through finding a guide.”

    “Guide,” her father frowned, pulling the suitcase close and setting it at his feet as if holding into it would let him hold onto her. “You mean body guard. Even you know it’s not safe, and you’re still going on without a thought for what it will do to your poor mother. You’ll have us all worried sick, Jude. And it’s selfish. Just… Just selfish.”

    She heard the wobble in his voice, and saw the tears in his eyes. Again. And it hurt. Oh, it hurt so deep and it wanted to move her to embrace him; squeeze in close and let him wrap his arms around her like he had done for her entire life when she had needed comfort. She wanted to give him peace of mind, assure him that she was going to be fine and that she would always be his little carrot-cake.

    “We’ve had this conversation before,” she found herself saying, keeping her voice as professionally cool as it would have been when she spoke to one of her clients. “I’ve seen those tears before, from you and from mom. Now I need to go, because the train to Zootopia only comes once a day and I’ve already lost enough time.”

    Watching him close his eyes and lower his head hurt her again. Another tiny needle to her heart, another little sliver of doubt that she couldn’t accept. So she walked over to him, placed a light kiss on his cheek before she whispered, “I love you both, so much. Please, please don’t hate me.”

    Then she took her suitcase in, and blinking back her own tears, walked out the door.

       
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

     

      _“I can protect you.”_

    Sitting in the taxi, watching the familiar landscape of Bunnyburrow pass by at a relatively tame speed, she remembered the words and the voice which had spoken them. The surprise, the instant flash of disbelief. That momentary thought that it had been a crank caller, someone from the Burrow, even. Trying to scare her into giving up what many of them saw as a foolhardy trip into the Foxes Den. Those feelings were quick to fade when there was no follow up to her silence.

     _“Who is this? How can you protect me?”_

     _“The last name on your list is Finnick. Have you called him?”_

    She watched the burrow entrances roll by as she ran the conversation through her head, not even noticing the high ears and stares from her neighbors as the taxi went past. Trying to find some clue, some hint of who the voice had belonged to.

     _“How did you know that?”_

     _“Because you’re smart enough to know who Finnick is. And you’re smart enough to know his price for protection.”_

    The voice had been cool, even when confirming what she already knew: the bat eared fox would have want her body, not her money. It made her sick to her stomach every time the thought of it rose, but the voice had been distantly uninterested, unimpressed. As if talking about a lawyer spreading her legs for the protection of a pimp was an everyday thing in Zootopia.

     _“And you? What will you want, Mr…?”_

     _“The amount will be discussed once you are settled in the city.”_

     _“That’s not how this…”_

     _“And there will be a condition. One condition that cannot be negotiated. I will be with you twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. In court, on the streets, in your office, while you eat, when you sleep. There can never be more than one open door between us.”_

    She remembered the fear that had skittered down her spine, and the anger that had rushed up to swallow it. She didn’t know his name, his price, or his skill, and he was demanding total access to her life.

    Her eyes turned towards the front of the cab, where she saw a swarm of reporters that were barely being held back from entering the train station. Sensitive ears picked up the repeated click and whirr or cameras catching photos of her last moments in Bunnyburrow. She was sure that most of them believed that these were the last moments of her life.

     _“That is insane. This conversation is ov…”_

     _“They_ will _get to you, carrot farmer. No one can stop that. They will slip in at night, or charge straight at you in broad daylight. They’ll poison your food, bump into on the sidewalk and leave you with a knife between your ribs, drive a car up the courthouse steps. You can hide behind closed doors, watch over your shoulder, and hope that they are just a little slower than you are. But it won’t be enough.”_

     _“….”_

     _“That’s why everyone is refusing to help you; the job is hopeless. Protecting you by conventional means is a fool’s errand. But if you agree to my protection, no matter how close they get, I’ll stop them before they can hurt you.”_

     _“…Why?”_

     _“Do you accept?”_

    She had.

    The taxi rolled to a stop just outside of the train station, and she could already see the blockade the local police had set up to prevent the reporters from surging forward. That didn’t stop the uproar or the shouted questions when she popped open the door to drag herself, and her suitcase out of the back seat. She saw the train pulling into the station, and the swarm of bunnies on the platform. It made her smile a little, seeing so many of her brothers and sister there mingled with her friends and neighbors. The mass of them made it impossible to pick out more than a few faces at a time, but they all looked worried, some a little excited, and others just sad. She just wished…

    A familiar sound caused her ears to perk and swivel, the low rumble of an overused and under-tuned pickup truck. She turned as the honking started, honking that was un-necessary but exuberant as her families primary means of transporting crops barreled down the road towards her. When the truck screeched to a halt behind the taxi, the plume of dust and exhaust the spilled over the gathered reporters was a little satisfying, if she felt like being vindictive about their behavior. And she did.

    When both of her parents spilled out, she steeled herself for another attempt to get her to stay, to change her mind. Instead, the two of them didn’t even both to close their doors before they ran to her and crushed her between them as arms wrapped around her and held on tight.

    “Judy,” her mother said, her voice trembling as she planned multiple kisses on her cheek before hugging her a little tighter. “We could never hate you. Don’t ever think that, my baby.”

    “Your ma and I love you, we’re just worried,” Stu began, then sniffled as he nuzzled her cheek. “And we can’t let you go angry.”

    “I’ll be fine, you guys,” she assured them both. Judy thought it was the best hug she had ever gotten, and burrowed herself between her parents as she returned their hug and savored the warmth of her parents for what she knew would be the last time for a long while. “I have my fox Taser, after all. And my Fox Repellant.”

    “That’s my girl,” Stu said, paw running under his eyes to wipe away the dampness.

    Some of which had been left on her own cheek, but she didn’t mind. At least he was letting her go, and she was able to say goodbye to her parents properly this time. “I’ll call you whenever I can. I promise. I love you guys.”

    All three became aware of something very suddenly, and their ears and heads turned at the same moment towards the station. Everyone was quiet. The reporters, the police, even the bunnies gathered to bid her farewell were quiet. All of them were looking in the direction of the parked train, though from the fact that she could still see cargo being unloaded with the daily deliveries she knew nothing was wrong with the train itself. Disengaging herself from her parents, she picked up her suitcase and headed onto the platform.

    When she saw him, a shiver of panic slammed through her that almost had her taking a step back. The fox stood in front of the door meant for mammals her size, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of the black suit pants. Aside from his causal stance, there was nothing casual about the fox himself. The suit was black and crisply pressed, with a spotless white shirt and neat black tie leading up into the thicker fur around his neck. His muzzle was long and narrow with striking orange and cream fur, peaked by a nose that was no doubt very adept at picking up the scent of each individual bunny within his reach. Perched on it and hooked behind high triangular ears tipped with black sat a pair of aviator sunglasses. The mirrored lenses reflected her own image back at her rather than letting her get a full look at his expression and the predatory eyes that she knew were behind them.

    Her own reflection.

    She steeled herself, realizing that he was watching her now. And even though his position hadn’t changed, she knew he was there for her. Someone from the city? Sent to intimidate her, most likely. One of the council members who didn’t want her there, or simply a hired gun sent to scare her off.

     _We’ll just see about that._

     Setting her suitcase down, she squared her shoulders and straightened her ears; she even forced her nose to stop twitching (as much) before she walked towards the fox with her head high.

    “I don’t which one of them sent you, or if you came on your own,” she began, standing in front of him with her best haughty lawyer stance and tone in place. Inside, she trembled at the way the corners of his muzzle started to curl in what could have been a snarl. “But you’re not stopping me from getting on that train. I have permission to enter Zootopia from the…”

    She was cut off when his lips curled fully, his mouth twisting into a snarl as a growl escaped him that made her blood run cold. He moved away from the train and towards her, the already blood red of his paws curved towards her with claws extended as if ready to spill real blood. Instinct told her to run, get as far away as she could. But reflex was faster, and her first reflex was to reach under her suit coat and grab the Taser from its holster on her hip. She whipped it around, sparks flying as she closed her eyes and jammed it into his chest with all her strength.

    And found her wrist caught in the larger paw of the predator, who watched her calmly now as she opened her eyes. The arch of electricity was only inches from his chest, but he held it there as he looked down at her with an expressionless face.

    “So you are ready to fight,” he commented, and her ears dropped as she instantly _knew_ that silkily cool voice. “That’s good to know. You’ll need that to survive in the Foxes Den.”

    As surprised by the fact that he openly called Zootopia the Foxes Den – a term that rabbits only spoke in secret and with distain – as she was by the fact that this… Fox was her guardian, she stood there in silence, her finger still pressing firmly into the trigger of the Taser. She was too stunned to stop until he reached down, and with a gentleness that seemed impossible for those large claw tipped fingers, extracted the device from her paw. He looked down at it for a moment in silence before he offered it to her, the dangerous end still pointed at his chest.

    “The charge is set too high,” he said calmly, once she had taken it and lowered it to her side. “It would take half of that to knock a fox on their ass at a touch. And I assume that you know they are illegal in Zootopia now, so keep that under your shirt unless there is no other choice.”

    “Why?”

    She hadn’t even intended to ask the question, but whatever she had intended to say had been blocked by the consuming need to know the answer that he hadn’t given her on the phone. One she needed to know now more than ever, because he was a fox. A _Red_ Fox. He would have been treated like royalty in the city, but he was going to protect her and she needed to know _why._

    “Stay away from my sister!”

    The cry came from a bunny about half her size. Her brother, Allan, rushing forward with a small basket of blueberries in hand. A hand full of which he drew back and flung at the fox. The gasps from the crowd were understandable, and Judy’s fingers tensed on the Taser again as the fox was pelted by a good ten blueberries. He didn’t react at first, simply looked down at his suit and plucked one piece of purple fruit from his lapel where it managed to lodge.

    “Who throws blueberries?” he questioned, his voice low, almost to himself before he popped the fruit into his muzzle casually. “Tomatoes, or at least a carrot. But blueberries?”

    Then he seemed to pause as he chewed, and she was almost certain that she saw a hint of a smile at the corners of his muzzle before he was moving towards the little brown bunny with the oddly pointed ears. The little brown bunny who looked ready to bolt, but was too afraid to move as the fox lowered himself into a crouch in front of him. Judy and her parents were both moving forward, but paused when he simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple crimson handkerchief.

    “Keep defending your family, kid,” he said, as he reached down into the basket and scooped out a handful of fruit. He tucked it into the handkerchief, folded it neatly, and then slipped it back into his pocket as though this were the most normal thing in the world. “In the end, that’s all that really matters.”

    He reached out and ruffled the fur between the kit’s ears, the kit who looked up at him in a little more awe than fear now as he turned to face Judy. Judy, who had watched the strange exchange with a little wonder, only to see his face freeze into a block of ice again when he looked at her. As the last call for boarding rang through the station, he walked towards her and then past as he headed toward the train. She looked at her brother, who was staring down at the crisp twenty dollar bill in the basket, before she heard the fox calling out to her.

    “Last call, Carrots. You have a court date to keep.”

    She tried to think of something to say, frowning at the fact that he had called her ‘Carrots.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, for anyone who has read my work before, these chapters are shorter than my normal fics. It must be, so my poor artist doesn't break his hand!


	3. Katabasis

 

****

It should not have surprised her that the train was abandoned for her trip into the city, but it certainly did nothing to calm her nerves. It had been easier to arrange to have herself delivered into a city that was hostile for a cause, with the conviction of her belief and goals strong in her heart, than it was to follow the darkly dressed fox. Her convictions had solid ground, certainty, and her years of study to support her and make her feel stable. This fox, this _Red_ Fox, that she walked a few steps behind as he made his way towards the observation deck was an unknown.

_I can protect you._

There was no mistaking the voice. There was no mistaking the professional, masculine tone which had assured her even in a single phone call that the speaker fully believed that he could protect her. She certainly had not expected her protector to be another bunny, but she had expected another prey species; someone who would sympathize with her, someone she could actually trust to keep her alive.

She couldn’t trust this fox. She knew it. It was counter to everything that she had seen happen as she grew up, as she went through law school, and even as a lawyer. So many laws twisted and changed, the so called “Rabbit-Ban Act” slipping through the city council without a whisper of protest, injustices running rampant under the control of the foxes. Once she might have believed that there was good in everyone, in every species no matter the social stigma surrounding them. Once she had dreamed of going to Zootopia to uphold law and order, to prove that a rabbit could be anything they wanted to be.

That had all been before the foxes had ruined her dream, taken the city she had looked on with hope and shown her that nothing was above corruption. But that did not mean that she wouldn’t fight to change that, and she would be damned if this little intimidation tactic by the foxes would change her mind.

When the fox stopped at the top level of the train, leaving her with a view of her family and her home just as the forward momentum caused her stomach to lurch a little, she looked down at the platform to see Allan standing there. His eyes were on the train, and searched the windows until he looked up and saw her. He raised his paw in a wave, and she felt a little clutch in her chest as she raised hers in return.

_“You can’t go with him,” he said, his voice pleading. Though even as he said it sounded uncertain as he looked towards the door where the fox had vanished._

_She thought that he must have been as curious as she was about the oddly kind gesture from the fox, but she couldn’t think about it now._

_“I have to go, Allan, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said with a soft smile, as she reached down to stroke her paw over the fur between his ears. She almost imagined that she could still feel the warmth left by the fox’s touch, but shook it off as she pulled the little bunny into a hug. “That was very brave, what you did for me. You stay brave, and take care of mom and dad for me, okay?”_

_“I love you.”_

Leaning against the glass in silence for a moment after her family quickly faded into the distance, her mind lingered on the odd behavior of the fox towards her brother. His expression had almost never changed, never softened. She half believed that the little smile she had seen when he had eaten the blueberry had been imagination now. Even now, when her gaze turned to him, she saw nothing. He was still as he leaned against the glass in a similar pose, silent and unmoving. His ears didn’t even twitch as he stared out at the world that sped past them, his tail didn’t sway. If not for the fact that his chest rose and fell when he breathed, she could easily have mistaken him for a statue in a suit.

“Cute kid,” came the smooth voice, one that came so suddenly that she hardly managed to suppress the flinch it caused. Instead, she frowned at her own jumpy reaction and directed her frustration at the most obvious offense.

“ _Don’t_ call him cute,” she said, pushing for strength in her voice as she glared at the back of his head. She wished he would turn around, that she could at least see his eyes so she could get a sense of who she was dealing with. Some emotion, some reaction beyond stony silence and that relaxed stance.

“Oh right, bunnies don’t like that,” he said, and rolled his body around without letting his shoulders leave the glass. Now facing her, she was met with her own reflection again and it infuriated her for some reason. “To other mammals it’s a positive thing. Bunnies are cute; especially the little ones. Maybe you should get over it.”

“Get over it?” She was aghast at his blasé attitude, his dismissive tone, and the fact that he had used the term again without the least bit of hesitation. Just like a fox. The rules didn’t apply to him, so what did he care if it was an insult? “And what if someone called you shifty? The last time I checked the laws, it’s now hate speech to call a fox shifty, or sly. What if I called _you_ shifty, or sly?”

“I am shifty, and I like to think of myself as sly,” was his easy reply, looking down at his hand as he drew the red handkerchief from his pocket. She stared at him for a moment, not sure what to say as he unwrapped it and popped one of the blueberries into his muzzle. Then he waved the hand even as he chewed. “Elephants are huge, rhinos have thick skin, tigers have stripes, buffalo have two horns, weasels are… Well, weasels. Nasty little bastards, generally. And sometimes bunnies _are_ cute. Deciding that you don’t like something doesn’t make it untrue, or unnoticed by the general population. Forcing silence is not making a change: it’s applying control.”

“So I should just accept it when you degrade my brother by calling him cute?” she snapped, standing away from the window herself with her ears high. Swallowing the still strong desire to keep her distance, she moved towards him. “Ignoring everything else about him, and focusing on that one aspect of him as if it does him a favor?”

“So you admit that he’s cute.”

She had never actually been so frustrated that she ground her teeth together, mostly because it was a hard thing to do with the larger front teeth of a bunny. But her jaw tightened and she was grinding as she watched him calmly pop another blueberry into his mouth. She turned away from him, her ears pinned back again and her arms folded across her chest, not even seeing the world rushing past as she tried to ignore the fact that his words did have some ring of truth to them. It was cold, intellectual, lacking compassion or understanding, but it was true on many levels.

“On one paw, Zootopia is a jewel of a city,” she heard him say, and while the words could have been taken as fond, they weren’t. Like everything out of his mouth, they seemed blank and edged with sarcasm. “The streets are filled with every species living together in harmony – except for bunnies, of course – with buildings that are tall and magnificent, a true testament to what happens when we all learn to play nice with each other. Everyone walks around, trying to remain unnoticed or trying to be noticed more than everyone else. Money is made, smiles exchanged, jobs worked and the system goes on without a hitch.

“On the other paw, you have the reality of the city,” he continued, though she refused to turn to face him. Still stewing in her own annoyance, watching the trees turn into water as the train reached the bridge into the city. “It is a dark, dangerous place. That is the part of the city you’ll be walking into, fluff. The part where people will call you cute, and actually mean it as the derogatory term that it is. They may do it behind your back, or do it right up in your face with a grin. And those that grin will expect you to react. Expect you to turn your attention to that tiny, insignificant little detail so you’ll lose focus on why you’re entering the Foxes Den at all.”

She realized that his voice was coming from directly behind her now, and spun around. Looking up into the looming face of the fox, she felt a kick of fear as her heart rate increased and her shrank in on herself. She half expected him to remove the glasses, but he kept them in place as he leaned forward and placed his paws on his knees to bring his muzzle to level with hers. Her nose twitched rapidly before she could still it. She smelled violets and blueberries.

“And once you lose focus because you can’t even get past the use of one word,” he continued, his voice not derisive or mean, in a stance that was almost like a school teacher talking to a favored student. Still, his next words made her shudder and hug her arms a little closer to herself. “the city will eat you.”

She trembled, and the part of her that was so certain of herself and her goals hated the fact that he could make her feel fear. She was suddenly very aware of where she was; aware of the fact that she had stepped onto a train with a fox, alone. A fox that was fully capable of killing her, making her disappear. The media would question it, there would be token searches, her family would no doubt do their best to find her. But it would fade. She would fade.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, using years of experience speaking in front of courtrooms in an attempt to keep her voice steady when she certainly didn’t feel that way.

“Go back to Bunnyburrow, Carrots,” he said after a long moment of silence, drawing himself upright again and shoving his hands into his pockets. “It will be safer for all involved if you just accept what we are. Shifty fox, cute bunny.”

He turned to walk back to where he had been before, seeming intent on dismissing her.

She mulled over his words in silence, and tried to calm the quick beat of her heart by watching the world pass her by, by focusing on what was important. Otterton was a step, a very important step and she could not let him pay the price in the city that the fox had described to her. Not even her family knew that she did not intend to stop there.

And the fox. He had terrified her, intimidated her without ever once directly threatening her, and then told her to go home. That was… Intelligent. Sly.

“Is this how you intend to protect me?” she asked suddenly, breaking what had been long minutes of silence. She raised her ears and kept them directed at him as he turned his head to the side with his muzzle dipped low. She could almost see one eye, _wanted_ to see his eyes. She was almost compelled to demand that he remove the glasses just so she could at least look him in the eyes one time before she continued. “By scaring me off? Hoping I’ll run back home, head low, realizing how amazingly right you are?”

She could have sworn, again, that she saw the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of his muzzle before he turned his gaze outward again.

“It would be an impressive accomplishment, minus the details,” he said easily. “Contract fulfilled in less than a day. Bunny lawyer boards train, realizes her mistake, and then is escorted safely home. Everyone wins.”

“Except Emmett Otterton,” she reminded him, taking a few steps closer to him without letting her gaze or her ears drop.

“Otterton is a lost cause,” he said with a slow shrug, a motion that caused the jacket of his suit to shift against… Something. Something she couldn’t see clearly, but made her aware that there was something just below each shoulder. Why it surprised her that he would be armed, she wasn’t sure. “If the system of Zootopia wants him gone, then he will be gone.”

“I’m not a part of that system.”

She hadn’t expected the words to mean much. They had been reflex, annoyance, even a little spite. But she realized that they must have meant something to him, because he slowly turned to face her again. The line of his muzzle was tight, and if she could see anything at all on his face, she would have called the expression pensive. Contemplative. Curious. Then he turned away from her again, and looked out. The train took a curve, and through the line of trees the city could be seen coming fast in the distance.

“No. No, you’re not.”

Maybe it was the fact that his voice seemed somehow softer, somehow less sarcastic that allowed her to move closer still. She was almost standing beside him, allowing her to see the corner of that orange and cream colored muzzle as she looked up at him.

“I will not run,” she said at length, her gaze not wavering and her voice steady. “I would have come to the city alone if there was no other choice.”

“And the city would have killed you.”

“Maybe… Maybe it would have,” she said with a small shrug of her own, feeling just a little easier now as she moved to stand beside him, her hands resting on the railing. She watched the city now herself as it moved closer, her gaze resting for a moment on The Tower. The seat of Vulpine power within the city; the symbol of their superiority, of their oppression. “But a certain fox told me that I would be protected. Unless his intent was just to scare me off from the start, and he has no other talents.”

She turned her gaze up to him, her muzzle curved in a challenging little smile. She managed to keep it on even when he turned his passive face down to her, and she was sure that it was the first time she had seen his ears show any sign of emotion as one twitched slightly. As if he were flicking it at an annoying itch.

“I will protect you,” he said at last, his voice hardening and cooling again.

Somehow she didn’t doubt that he could. Putting aside the fact that she was still not convinced that she could trust him, and had the suspicion that he had been sent by someone to watch her as much as act as her body guard, something about him told her that nothing frightened him. Even if it could have been bluster and bragging, she didn’t think so.

“You still haven’t told me how much you expect to be paid,” she reminded him, returning her gaze to the city.

“We’ll get to that once you’ve settle into your new office,” he reminded her. “Just remember the rules, Carrots. One open door, at most. By the time your case is finished, you may be begging to go back to Bunnyburrow.”

She felt a little twist in her stomach, but tried to push it aside. She had not forgotten that she had given him full access to her life as a condition for his protection, but that had been before the fact that he was a fox had become clear. Now she would have sleep knowing that he was there, leaving herself not only closer to a fox than she had ever wanted to get, but vulnerable. Helpless…

She didn’t even know his _name._

“Do you have a name?”

“Nick.”

She looked up at him with one brow and both ears raised, waiting a beat. Expecting more, perhaps. Maybe even thinking that it would be something a little more impressive than a four letter name that could have belonged to anyone she met. Not that she expected it to be ‘Flamefur the Terrible’ or anything like that, but something more than ‘Nick.’

“Huh,” she said, squinting her eyes at him a bit with a bit of a wry smile on her muzzle. “All right, Nick. I guess I’m stuck with you. Just try not to call Allan cute.”

“And if I call you cute?” he asked, without turning his gaze to her.

She gave a small snort, her eyes resting on the approaching tunnel leading into the city proper. “Only if you think I am.”

“You’re positively adorable.”

This time, she was one hundred percent certain that she saw a ghost of a smile at the corner of his muzzle, before his face grew cool again when they entered the tunnel.

“Well, Miss Hopps,” he said, the shadows of the passing structure cutting through the observation deck as the train sped towards Central Zootopia. “Welcome to Zootopia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to check out the comic based off these stories here! [Sunderance](http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-2-Katabasis-633226357)
> 
> Comments are love! I show the artist the comments, too. To motivate him to draw faster. LOL


	4. The Paladin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trials begin.

The media had been shut out of the courthouse entirely, on the off chance that someone would try to slip a camera past the security within the building to gain access to the courtroom itself. The decision by Chief Justice Bellwether had faced criticism from various directions, most noticeably the City Council who saw the appeals trial as a farce that should be televised for the entertainment value that it would undoubtedly bring. No one actually expected that the ‘bunny bumpkin’ from a farming family in the Commonwealth would bring anything more than a good chuckle from the courthouse.

Which was why the doors were sealed, and the only unusual presence in the near perfect silence of the large chamber was the crisply dressed Red Fox standing only feet away from Judy Hopps. The confused rippled had followed the two of them in from the courthouse steps, as flashing lights and shouldered cameras had tried to bend over the two lions who barred further entrance through the large double doors leading into the courthouse itself. Those ripples had continued all the way into the courtroom, until Bellwether had slammed her decorative gavel into the sound block and called for order. Otherwise, his presence was not mentioned.

It was not like anyone questioned the Fox’s right to be in the courtroom, after all.

The silence that followed was one filled with curiosity as the bunny was called forward to present her opening argument. The sheep watched the well-dressed bunny as she made her way to the marble podium between the Defense and Prosecution’s tables. The prosecution was absent, likely because they saw no need to bother with the case, and that did not sit well with Bellwether. The law was the law, and even if there was small chance that anything would come of this, the law demanded respect. But there was nothing to be done about it. This was, after all, an informal hearing: one set to determine if there was any cause to continue with the final appeal of Emmett Otterton.

Those who did attend included a few dignitaries who were there for the sake of watching the rabbit fail, including some representatives from the fox population from various sectors throughout the city. The fact that they were all staring at the Red Fox, who kept himself a few paces behind Hopps at all times, made Bellwether all the more curious about him. No one seemed to know who he was or why he was there; they didn’t understand why the rabbit didn’t seem overly concerned with his presence or even acknowledge that he existed as she jumped easily onto the stool that had been placed in front of the central podium. All business, she waited in silence to be recognized.

“You may state your case to the court, Miss. Hopps,” the sheep in the dark robes of her station said evenly, leaning forward with her hooves folded together on top of the table as she looked down.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Hopps said, and without a single note set out before her, she did just that.

 

* * *

 

 

“I am here today to appeal the case of Emmett Otterton, a mammal that has been wrongly accused of murder. Not the murder of a stranger, not the murder of a political rival. But the murder of his wife. A wife that by all reports he loved more than life itself. We’re all familiar with the case on some level – even all the way out into the Commonwealth – because of the resounding shock it caused, not only through his community, but through all of Zootopia. That such a well-respected member of his community, such a well-known and beloved leader could commit such a horrible crime against someone that he loved so dearly was unthinkable. I don’t think that I am out of line when I say that everyone expected him to be cleared, and the hunt for the real murdered to begin very quickly after the arrest was made.

“Of course, public option doesn’t matter in cases like this. Good people sometimes do horrible things; they make mistakes that they can’t take back, no matter how much they wish they could. Otterton was found over his wife’s body with the murder weapon in his paws, her blood on his hands and soaked into his sweater. That much we know is fact. There was no sign of forced entry into their home. That is also fact. Other basic facts in the case include the fact that she was stabbed once in the heart with a long bladed kitchen knife, and that it was only moments after the determined time of death that Emmett Otterton himself called Emergency Response. And that is where things get less factual, and more circumstantial. And worst, unusual.

“According to police reports, an anonymous tip was received at 9:54pm to report a murder. Mrs. Otterton was confirmed alive at this time. The fact that this caller was never identified was omitted from the case. The ZPD arrived on the scene at 10:02pm, ten minutes before the EMT, and reported leading a sobbing Otterton away from his wife’s body without resistance. And because they _knew_ him, no arrest was made until later in the week. Then stories began to surface of a heated argument between the two at a public event the night before, an argument during which Otterton supposedly threatened his wife’s life. An argument that many their close friends, who were also at this event, continue to say never happened; testimony which never made it into court during his murder trial. Expert testimony was never requested during the trial, such as the coroner’s report that confirmed death was caused by a single, precise knife wound between the ribs that pierced the heart. The question was never raised as to why, if this was a crime of rage and passion, he only stabbed her once. Or how there was no sign of a struggle inside of the house. Or the fact that there were also no defensive wounds on Mr. Otterton, even though there were signs of some struggle given tearing in Mrs. Otterton’s blouse.

“What I am saying, Your Honor, is that justice has not been properly served in the case of Emmett Otterton. It is true that Justice is blind, but at the same time, Justice cannot be blind to the _truth._ All of the facts have not been considered. No, many of the facts were outright ignored or conveniently barred from the case. The eyes of Zootopia were on the Otterton murder trial, and I fear that those eyes saw a miscarriage of justice, and because law and order are slowly dying in this city… Accepted it without complaint. And until Emmett Otterton is given a fair trial, with a defense that is interested in absolving him of a crime that he did not commit rather than accepting that the ‘system’ in Zootopia cannot be broken, I fear it will only get worse.

“I plead with the court to consider my appeal, to look beyond the gavel, and allow me to defend an innocent mammal.”

 

* * *

 

Walking beside her out of the courthouse felt odd. It all felt odd. Not because he was walking beside a rabbit in a neat black suit, carrying her suitcase in one hand while trying to fend off an overly aggressive microphone from one of the reporters with the other, but because he was more visible to the daylight world than he had been in years. He could feel the heat beating against his fur and the back of his suit as the afternoon sun moved just past its pinnacle; could see mammals of the everyday variety going about their business in open view of the public. This was what normal mammals did, after all.

He was no longer ‘normal’ by the standards of this society.

After spending years in a self-imposed state of near indistinctness, lurking in the darker corners of the city and moving mostly at night when no one would question or take interest in the presence of a fox, being this public was like an itch between his shoulders that wouldn’t go away. He wanted to scratch it, to get out of the public eye and away from the glinting lenses of over a dozen cameras even though he knew it was already too late for that. Along with the rabbit, his face would be plastered all over the news in a matter of hours. He had known it would happen from the moment he had decided to help her, and accepting that meant that the itch could be ignored for now.

“Miss Hopps! Now that the appeal has been accepted, what are your next steps?”

“Miss Hopps! Would you consider an interview now that your foreseeable future is here in the city?”

“Miss Hopps! Do you really think you can win this case?”

“Miss Hopps! Victoria Harrigan, ZNN. Is this your personal protection? Did the Administrator provide for your safety?”

“Miss Hopps!”

“Miss Hopps!”

That didn’t mean he needed to tolerate the presence of the reporters past the courthouse steps, as a flood of questions continued to follow them once they reached the sidewalk. He felt the slight jerk in her body when he laid his paw on Hopps’ shoulder briefly, but she stopped and looked up at him with half wide, half curious eyes as he turned to face the reporters. Reporters that grew silent, even as they thrust their microphones forward and focused all cameras on him in hopes that the mysterious fox was about to say something riveting and newsworthy.

“Stay,” he said, point at the ground where they already stood. More than a few of them actually took a step back from that particular spot on the sidewalk, causing one camera-mammal to almost trip over the courthouse steps and drop his camera. All except for the white furred vixen he had seen question Judy the night before. And the only reporter who had questioned his presence beside the bunny. Wearing another slightly too short dress skirt, this one a business like beige that hugged her hips on the way up to a blue blouse that accented her curves perfectly. All he felt when he met her ice blue eyes was a twinge of humor when she frowned at him in a way that screamed ‘Who do you think you are?’ But she still stayed where she was, even if she did cross her arms over her chest and level a steady, weighty gaze at him as the mammals around her muttered in their confused uncertainty.

Once the silence had taken a moment to sink in, and he was sure all of them had clearly seen where his clawed fingertip was point, he simply turned and gestured for the surprised bunny to continue their walk. The reporters didn’t follow, no doubt because the question about his being an agent of the Administrator had gone unanswered.

They walked in silence for a few seconds, until he was certain they were out of direct earshot of even the most sensitive ears among them before he spoke to the bunny who kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes. “Go ahead. Ask it.”

“ _Do_ you work for the Administrator?” The question was quick, came easily and not without a hint of accusation on the edges of her tone. He glanced down at her without turning his head, seeing the tiny female frowning curiously with her violet eyes locked on him. Of course she would try to read him when he gave his answer, and he made sure to turn his head out towards a passing car on the street for a moment as he answered. Just to get under her fur.

“No.” When he turned his muzzle forward again, there was a tiny bit of gratification to see annoyance on her face. A tiny bit of that, and an odd gnawing feeling of guilt that was just as tiny. But the fact that it existed at all made him frown, release a low sigh, and answer her in a way that he hoped would kill the subject. “No, I do not, and have never worked for the Administrator. Does the defense have any further questions?”

“Who do you work for?”

“You,” he said easily, keeping the mild irritation at the question in check. He knew that she didn’t trust him, and wasn’t entirely sure why that fact suddenly annoyed him. Fighting to keep his ears erect and unmoving, which was unusual in itself, wasn’t doing his mood any favors. He was slightly gratified that she seemed just a little surprised by the answer.

“No, I mean who sent you?” she asked, increasing her pace slightly so she could look at him more easily, her ears high. He was sure so she could try to catch the tone of his voice as they radared in on him. “What agency? What policing body? What member of the city Council? Someone must have sent you, and I think the answer is why you’ve been refusing to talk about it. You’re under orders.”

“I don’t work for an agency, or a policing body, or a member of the council,” he said, snagging the back of her suit’s blazer with one paw and correcting her when she almost overshot their turn out of Savanna Central. This brought a glare, which he returned with a calm expression as he took the lead again. “I wasn’t sent by any governing body, or clandestine organization, or one of the corporations. I don’t work for anyone.”

“You work for me,” she reminded him, with a triumphant little smirk on her muzzle that caused one of his ears to twitch finally.

Damned adorable bunny.

“Yes, I work for you.”

“Then if you work for me, I need to be able to trust you,” she said, increasing her pace again so that she could come to a stop directly in front of him. Once he paused his steps to stand facing her, looking down at her through the dark glasses that seemed only marginally effective at dampening how bright she seemed in the light of the midday sun. “I need to be able to trust you with my life, and I don’t know anything about you.”

“Look, Fluff,” he began as he assessed the three mammals in the immediate proximity to them now. The otter in khaki shorts and a T-shirt was busily chatting on his phone as he wandered past on the other side of the street, seeming completely unaware of his surroundings. The giraffe that plodded past them in a long legged and quick pace angled her neck around to give the bunny a wide eyed stare and him a cautious one before moving on her way without a backward glance. And the badger in a poorly fitted business suit, sitting at the bus stopped reading the newspaper, only held his attention for a moment before he dismissed him as well. All of this was done quickly enough that she didn’t notice the pause in his thoughts before he continued. “Maybe if it were that easy, I would tell you everything you could ever want to know about me. But it doesn’t. Trust doesn’t come from hearing someone’s life story. Trust doesn’t come from someone asking you to trust them. So I will skip those steps.

“But I will tell you this.” He stepped closer to her, and noticed that this time she didn’t shrink away as she had on the train; didn’t curl in on herself, or lower her ears. And he saw from the look in her eyes that she stood her ground more out of defiance than bravery. Which in itself was brave enough. “If there is ever a time when you can’t trust me? You’re going to die.”

“You keep saying that,” she said, seeming far less disturbed than she should have been. Her ears remained high as she turned to follow him when he stepped around her again. “You’ve already tried frightening me into going back to Bunnyburrow, and it didn’t work then. And it won’t work now, especially now that the appeal has been accepted.”

“Yes, using what I said about the system in Zootopia to make your point,” he mumbled, which gained a glowing smile from her that was half delighted and all pleased with herself. “And I keeping saying it because I want to drive the point home about how dangerous this city is for a…”

He saw the movement as a shadow against the corner of his glasses, briefly blocking out the glint of the sun off of a window in the adjacent alley. Fast moving, very large, and almost on top of them. She noticed the motion herself about a second too late. The flicker of the straight knife in the simply dressed tiger’s paw came at a low angle, and Nick’s reaction was instant and only based partly on thought as he grabbed her arm and swung her around to switch places with her. The underhanded arch of the stab was meant to be quick and precise against the smaller mammal, which meant it lacked the full power the tiger was capable of; a fact which worked in the fox’s favor as he used the momentum he already had to slam his body into the forearm as it passed inches from his own chest. The impact sent the point of the knife sliding harmlessly past the rabbit, and sent his dark glasses flying off to skitter across the sidewalk un-noticed. Seeing the moment of surprise on the tiger’s face, which was already quickly becoming annoyance and determined rage, Nick ducked the returning blow that was now directed at him intentionally. The scratch of the hot sidewalk under his paw pads preceded his forward lunge after he pivoted away and made sure that he was between her and the tiger.

Deep emerald green, only a few degrees below boiling, met the stunned and frightened amethyst of the bunny on the ground. He stood, took a single step back, and tugged on the hem of his jacket to smooth it as if getting ready for just another day at the office.

“…cute little bunny,” he finished his thought almost calmly, before he turned and met the charging tiger to do his job:

Protect Judith Hopps.


	5. Mokusatsu

    Judith Hopps was too stunned to move.

    She had always believed that the very idea of being so shocked by an event as to cause physical paralysis was something fictional, made up to entertain the readers of horror novels and the viewers of shock drama movies. But she sat on the sidewalk in broad daylight – propped upright by her arms, legs spread in a pose that she would have called undignified and ridiculous at any other moment in her life – and she couldn’t move as she stared into green eyes that were so intense she was certain they couldn’t be real. For an insane moment, she felt like she was looking into green glass just a few degrees below molten on the tip of a glass blower’s pipe and she couldn’t look away. The fear of the fact that she was very much under attack almost faded, a flutter filled her belly, and her mouth went dry as he drew himself up without taking his eyes off her.

    Then that moment was shattered by the low rumble from the tiger, not more than a few steps away from them. She watched her guardian; watched him tug on the hem of his suit jacket once to straighten it. But even as thoughts of escape started to fill her mind, because surely that was the plan when the one trying to kill her was a much larger and stronger mammal, Nick turned and started to talk towards the threat without a hint of hesitation. This was the actual moment, watching the fox walk towards the predator that was twice his height and much more massive when she realized that someone could be so stunned by an event that they would be unable to move.

    “I have no business with you, whoever you are,” she heard the tiger say, her ears perking towards the sound of the voice. Whoever this tiger in the gray suit was, he clearly had no fear of being identified. “Killing a fox isn’t what I want or what I was sent for, but my target is behind you.”

    She felt a shiver run down her spine when she heard the cool, easy voice of the fox. To her, he sounded like a priest chastising a sinner, rather than a fox standing less than a foot from a tiger.

    “Then we both know which direction you have to move.”

    She had dozens of brothers, so she had been forced to sit through her share of prize fights, boxing matches, and even a martial arts tournament when those were the only things allowed on the TV. It had always been graceless to her; random, desperate and imprecise. Her brothers had assured her that she simply didn’t understand the hidden grace behind watching grown mammals throw punches and kicks at each other in a desperate fight for survival. And she had been willing to accept that simply because so many of her brothers and sisters did enjoy it, while she remained uninterested in the flailing fists and chaos where more blows were missed than landed.

    What she saw in the less than a minute that followed was nothing like that.

    The tiger seemed hesitant for half a second as they both stood, unmoving. Then the decision was made as the massive mammal, without any hint or warning that the attack was coming that she could see, drove his paw forward and down towards she fox with claws fully extended. Her breath lumped in her throat as a half scream of warning started to form, but before she could even finish drawing the breath the fox gracefully tilted to the side, the deadly claws not so much as grazing his jacket in passing. The motion was followed through when two red paws gripped the tiger’s sleeve and pulled the attack onward, causing the tiger to overcompensate and slam his curled paw into the hard cement of the sidewalk with the dull crack of at least one finger breaking. Before she even had time to fully realize what had just happened, the fox slammed his foot down onto the injured paw, causing another, much louder snapping sound and ripping a roar of agony from the large feline. The assassin dropped to one knee as his face twisted with pain, snatching his nearly crushed hand away and swinging out blindly with the other in a desperate attempt to drive his opponent back. He met empty air, and the opening proved damning; even as the stunned lawyer watched the tiger raise his face to search for the fox, the fox spun around and lashed out with the same foot, slamming it into the side of the tiger’s head. Sunglasses shattered from the force of the impact that sent the stripped head snapping back, and she was unsure of the blood that dripped down the side of his head was caused by the fragments or by the rake of claws through flesh.

    The tiger managed to drop into a roll to put some distance between himself and the fox, his injured paw drawn up to his chest when he managed to pull himself to his feet. Judy watched it all, and like the tiger, she was a little shocked to see that Nick hadn’t moved more than a foot from where he had been when the fight had started. If a fight was what this could be called. So far, the stunned rabbit had watched a tiger have his hand crushed and his face slashed open by an impassive and seemingly unmoved fox. She could see clearly the surprise and outright fear on the blood stained face of her would-be assassin, but even that did not seem to be enough to deter him from his goal.

    He moved again, this time dashing towards the blade that had been knocked out of his hand after his first attempt at her. He swooped down quickly without losing stride, snatching the blade from the ground with his uninjured paw. She tensed, moved, drawing her legs up and starting to rise to her feet when she realized that he intended to bypass the fox and simply finish her off. She managed to rise to her knees, one paw on the ground and braced to run before Nick was between her and the tiger again. Wide violet eyes watched him slip his paw under the back of his jacket, and even as the tiger tried to dash past him, the paw whipped out so fast that all she saw was a streak of black as he met the larger mammal’s forward motion with his own. The audible crack of something solid smacking into flesh and bone was heard, and the forward motion of the tiger sent him crashing to the ground face first as one of his legs seemed to crumble and twist under him at an unnatural angle.

    She finally pulled herself to feet and backed away a few steps, her heart thudding hard against her chest as the tiger groaned and rolled onto his back. When Nick came closer, the wounded mammal tried to lash out with the knife, only to have that motion met by the black baton she now realized had been used to cripple his leg. The knife went skidding across the sidewalk and into the street, and the baton swung wide again. When the feline’s head snapped back from the blow, dropped, and he lay limp on the ground without movement beyond his own raspy breathing she was sure it was over.

    Her gaze locked on Nick now as he walked calmly around to the assassin’s side, the baton held in a relaxed position at his side while his other hand slipped into his pocket. As far as she could see, the dark suit hadn’t even been wrinkled by the encounter and it left her feeling so many mixed emotions that she wasn’t sure what she felt. The lingering fear that had her nose twitching and her heart racing. Awe and something deeper as she stared at the fox had her feeling a clutch in her belly that she was quick to ignore, turning her focus on the relief that the worst seemed to have passed. Her ears trembled, perked and turned towards the tiger when she heard him speak a single word. A question croaked out in a pained but almost reverent whisper.

    “You’re… _Him._ _Yūrei_.”

    She saw the fox pause for a moment, green eyes focused on the bloody face of the larger predator for a moment in consideration before he gripped the end of the baton and rose it high.

    “Do I look like a ghost to you?” was his cold reply, before he slammed the haft of the baton into the bridge of the tiger’s muzzle with a sickening crunch.

    She felt her stomach turn as the tiger’s body jerked and convulsed once before growing still and silent; even the rasping breaths had stopped, and she felt nausea rise when she realized that he would never breathe again. Her legs trembled when she managed to draw herself to her feet, looking from the still tiger to the fox. Some part of her realized that she maybe should have been frightened, or at least wanted her to be frightened. She had just watched him kill someone, even if it had been to defend her. There had been no need to kill him.

    Had there?

    But when she watched him raise his eyes towards her, those now cool emerald green meeting hers for a brief moment, it wasn’t fear she felt. Far from fear. She felt drawn to him. Maybe it was the high of adrenaline or the fear of what could have happened to her – _would_ have happened if she had come to the city alone – but she wanted to be close to him. Telling herself that it was because she felt vulnerable suddenly was acceptable enough that she focused on that and silenced anything else. She watched as he turned the baton in his hand once. It looked like metal, blackened and furrowed down the length, with a circular design of some sort that she couldn’t quite make out because his thumb covered half of it. Then he moved it behind his back and having returned it to whatever he used to sheath it, walked towards her with now empty hands.

    Seeing his gaze move past her, her ears turned when she realized there was a commotion behind them. The click and whir of cameras, the mutter of voices ranging from boldly loud to whispered. When she turned to look at the gathered reporters, they all went silent except for the arctic vixen who continued to talk excitedly to the camera with her silver eyes focused on Nick. Likely for their own good, she decided, they had kept their distance. But they had obviously caught every second of the tiger’s violent end on camera.

    “We need to go before the police arrive,” he said simply, though his tone was as calm as ever. She almost had a moment to feel resentment for his callous attitude, before she turned her gaze to him and found his paw extended towards her. His eyes were on her now, showing even the slightest concern as they moved over her slowly from paws to long ears, his nostrils flaring as he scented the air around them. She assumed he was trying to determine if she was injured and bleeding, so she gingerly accepted the offer. Feeling the warm, rough pads of his fingers close over her smaller paw made her belly flutter again as he drew her to her feet. Then he bent down and grabbed her case, holding it out to her until she took it with still trembling paws.

    “Thank you,” she said, not even sure herself if she was thanking him for the case or for saving her life. Saying ‘Thank you’ to the fox who had just killed someone to save her seemed… Inadequate.

     

    “Let’s go,” was his only reply as he placed one paw between her shoulders to lead her down the sidewalk. He matched his pace to hers, as it took her a moment to gain steady footing, leading her further down the street and around the corner. He sent a glare – what she would now see was a glare – towards the reporters to keep them from following them.

    She had to stifle the cry that tried to escape her when, upon turning the corner, she saw two towering polar bears waiting on the sidewalk next to a large white limousine. Seeing two mammals that made the tiger look small by comparison had a sliver of fear started to rise again as she shifted herself unconsciously behind Nick, gripping his jacket sleeve… And feeling a little foolish when he turned a slightly amused grin back to her.

    “Don’t worry, Carrots. I can handle them,” he said, continuing towards the two massive mammals with their tieless suits, gold chains, opulently large rings and blank faces. She felt the brush of his tail against the back of her legs, and after releasing his sleeve she scooted closer to his side as she looked up. And up some more when they reached the two. “Raymond. Kevin. It’s good to see you. The car is ready?”

    There was no verbal reply to the question, and the answer came as no more than a simple nod from the larger of the two. Her muzzle dropped open bit when the same bear dropped down on one knee to lean closer to Nick, and the two each other with a kiss on each cheek before the action was repeated with the other bear. Questions flooded her mind about the odd exchange, the respect that they two mammals showed by lowering themselves to one knee, and the warmth in Nick’s manner towards them. But she couldn’t find the voice to ask it yet, nor was she entirely sure she wanted to ask as they were lead around to the back of the limo.

    The fact that a car had been mentioned at all had her even more curious. She had expected to use public transportation, though now after being attacked in broad daylight, she understood that even attempting that would have been paramount to committing suicide. The vehicle looked simple enough when she saw it; made for mammals their size, four doors, black paint and dark windows with a design that wasn’t flashy or built for speed. In fact, it looked like the sort of car that would travel unnoticed through the city and she was intelligent enough to know that this was exactly the point.

    “Good,” Nick said simply, and turned towards the bear that she had come to think was likely Keven. The fox paused when Keven held out a paw, and for a moment Judy thought he was expecting payment. Then she realized, once she saw the small black device against his paw pads that he was holding out a phone. The fox released a slow sigh as he reached out to pick it up and shove it into his pocket. “I will call him as soon as we are situated and safe, all right? We have to go.”

    The bear, who gave a low grunt and another nod in reply, followed them around to the passenger side of the car when Nick led her there. He then actually opened the door for her, which had her pausing and looking up at him with a muttered “Thank you,” before she climbed into her seat and settled back into the leather with her case resting in her lap.

    There was no further conversation that she could hear, not that the bears seemed overly talkative anyway before Nick settled into the driver’s seat and pulled his door closed. Trying to think of what question to ask first, she blinked and jumped a little in surprise when he leaned over towards her. This put their faces close together, so close that she felt the whisper of his breath against her cheek for a moment as he reached out and opened the glove compartment. He drew out a pair of sunglasses before she realized that she had forgotten to breathe, mostly because those eyes were on her, this time clearly amused by her reaction to his close proximity.

    “Don’t worry, Hopps,” he said as he drew back and slid the sunglass onto his muzzle. Just the fact that they were there meant that someone had known he might need them. And even as she regained the ability to breathe normally, she couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment. A feeling that she pushed aside as he started the car and continued with a small smirk on his muzzle. “I didn’t save you just so I could eat you myself.”

    Because that made her fight to control a blush she refused to accept, she turned a glare on him with all of the heat she could find before she leaned back in her seat. She ran it all through her mind when he pulled away from the curb, her gaze drifting back to the two polar bears as they climbed into the large limo. The fight with the tiger had been sudden, unexpected, and brutal, at least in her mind. To the fox beside her, it had seemed like just another walk around the block, and his unblemished suit seemed to support that analogy. Then there was his lack of reaction to being seen by the media, though that could have simply been his way of handling an unavoidable circumstance. And the polar bears, the limo, the car…

    Her eyes lingered warily on his face. Now that he had the sunglasses back on, he seemed to become impassive again. All the traces of humor, heat, and even the affection he had shown the bears was just… Gone. It was like he had put on a mask that covered his entire face, rather than just his eyes. And more than ever, she wanted them gone again.

    Not sure what was going to happen now, uncertain of the fox beside her, lingering thoughts of the brutality of the fight and the sudden death of a mammal on his mind, she tucked her arms around herself and closed her eyes. Trying to shut the images out, clear her mind enough for her to think. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t block the memory burned into her mind; one of a cold fox standing over a broken tiger, or the name the tiger had said with certainty even if Nick had denied it.                                     

     _Who are you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to check out the Sunderance Comic based on these short stories, found here! http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-4-Mokusatsu-640156717


	6. South of Othrys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! View the comic by TheWyvernsWeaver [Here](http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-5-South-of-Othrys-647345198)

    In some long forgotten level of his mind, he understood what it was like for someone to enter the city of Zootopia for the first time. While Savanna Central was a beautiful thing to behold on the surface, with modern architecture blended seamlessly with more traditional buildings such as the courthouse itself, it was the welcome center for all visitors that arrived by train. It was an intelligent design, lacking anything that could be considered overly intimidating to a first-time visitor, while also putting forward a welcoming atmosphere of shops, food and brightly colored buildings. The mingling of various species, large and small and tiny, going about their daily lives without a care made most seeing it for the first time believe the illusion it created: a perfectly peaceful and even welcoming city.

    Downtown was another animal completely. The scattering of buildings on the outskirts that were often designed with a certain size group in mind faded; gave way and were overshadowed by those designed for mammals of all sizes. Buildings that would have been called fantastic only a century ago stood like monoliths, reaching towards the sky. And for those within the forest of massive structures, there was almost no sky worth seeing that wasn’t comprised of metal and cement and composites; standing testaments to the creativity of mammalian architecture, the willingness of a city to make certain all members of its population were given their due consideration. At the same time, when one looked closely enough, that population liked to make sure that its territory was marked in very clear, very obvious ways so that they were given their spot in the heavens. A building with stripes like those of the zebra stood, while another with the stripes of a tiger stood in competition against it for the most obvious display of “Look! Look at our species and recognize that we exist!” And still closer to the center, higher on the mountain, where the towers became truly massive in size and intricate in design, stood silver tower that was curved in a shape much like the flexible trunk of an elephant. To an outsider, it would look like a blend of buildings, with the skywalks and trams running across the sky to link everyone and gave off the same spirit of mixed species living together in harmony.

    The bunny sitting beside him seemed wrapped up in the reality of what he was sure she had only seen in pictures until this point, now that her eyes were open again. The sparkle of it all was easy enough to get lost in, the size enough to give awe to any newcomer. And while he was glad that she seemed to be focusing on something other than what had happened in Savanna Square – watching her look around with wide, lavender eyes as if she could take it all in with one slow drive through the busy streets – it wasn’t what he saw. To Nick, it looked like exactly what it really was: a way for the civilized to bow to their more animal instincts and lay claim to their own piece of Zootopia while making sure they were noticed.

    She had told him where they were going, and he knew exactly what to expect when he turned down the street. Again, he was sure that she had seen it from a distance. Seen it on the news, or in the paper when it was completed. As someone who had seen it dozens of times from various parts of the city, seeing The Tower so clearly as still something of a shock to they system. If the buildings around it were grand in scale, The Tower itself was almost mythical. Easily outreaching all other buildings in their quest to touch the sky, the colossal structure gleamed in tones of white and reflective black glass that made it seem all the more impressive in its uniqueness compared to the buildings around it. As a seat of power, it accomplished what few others did; blending in with the city itself rather than overpowering it, while remaining distinctively above the rest in both height, design, and beauty.

    A fitting throne for the Administrator.

    From the corner of his eye, he could see that Hopps had gone wide-eyed with the expected awe and wonder of someone who had never seen the like before. The expression lasted for all of thirty seconds before her face hardened a bit, and the wonder was gradually replaced with what he would have called suspicious contemplation. He found that he liked that about her, even though that look was generally turned in his direction. There was always that first moment of an innocent about her, the reactions of someone who was not prepared for everything she saw. Their first meeting, their talk during the trip to the city, their arrival and her appearance in court. In all of those cases, she had been taken off guard but had adapted and pushed back where many would have folded. And while the wonder of the city was still taking most of her attention, he knew that sooner or later, she was going to push back against what had happened after they left the courthouse.

    The tiny building didn’t surprise him. There were random, small buildings through the whole of Zootopia that often seemed out of place. Situated at the end of an easily missed street called Picayune Way, it sat in a patch of grass between two massive skyscrapers that looked destined to crush it simply by existing so close to it. Quaint would have been a generous term for the tiny building, which he doubted had more than two rooms. Red brick and classic windows made it look more like an old-fashioned house than an office of any kind, and it was likely that it had been repurposed with just that in mind. The tree standing beside it, which failed to offer any form of shade in the shadow of the massive buildings that overpowered it, seemed lonely to him when there was a literal forest just across the street. He thought it was a fitting, in a way; the tree was alone, while being within easy reach of its kind, kept separate by seemingly trivial but unbreakable barriers.

    He wasn’t sure if the comparison suited Hopps better, or himself.

    Pulling the car into the drive, he paused to turn his head towards her even as he shut down the engine, finding that her eyes were on him more than the office now. He knew that look already as well; the curious, almost accusatory look that she gave him when she was trying to figure out who he was and why he was helping her. Though there was more to it, this time. An added hesitation, the reason for which was made obvious by the noticeable twitch of that cute pink nose of hers when she didn’t make a move to leave the car. So in reply? He decided to lean back in his seat, keeping his shaded gaze on hers. This time he decided not to prompt her to ask the questions that lingered in her gaze, and simply waited to see how long it would take her to find her voice.

    “Will you take the sunglasses off?” she asked after a long moment, which may have been among the last five things he might have guessed she would say right off the bat. “Please.”

    Such a polite little bunny, so controlled even though he could almost smell the fear on her that went along with that twitching nose and the way she unconsciously kept herself pressed almost as far from him as she could. He had to respect the fact that she hadn’t bolted from the car yet, so with a sigh that he kept entirely mental, he reached up and slid the sunglasses from his muzzle.

    Careful control kept his face impassive and his eyes cool as he looked down at her, while in truth he was… Angry. Almost angry, anyway. The first attempt on her life had come more quickly than he had expected, more quickly than he had hoped for all of his talk. Someone was after her, and it was someone with the power to send a somewhat skilled assassin. The truth of the fact that she would be dead if anyone else had been with her was not lost on him. And it left a bitter taste in his mouth that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times he ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth.

    “Did you… Did you really need to kill him?” she managed after a small hesitation, and he watched her throat work as she swallowed after managing to get the words out. “That didn’t seem necessary.”

    “Is that what you think,” he said, not phrasing it as a question as he remained motionless aside from ears that were perked towards her.

    “It is what I think,” she said, her voice lowering as she glared at him. She clearly didn’t like the fact that he seemed uncaring on the subject, but he didn’t mind that in the slightest. “He was helpless, and…”

    “He was far from helpless,” he interrupted, turning his gaze out the window for a quick look around. If they were safe anywhere, it was inside of this car, but that didn’t mean he could forget the fact that they were obviously in more danger than he had anticipated. “Just because it might have seemed so when he realized he couldn’t win doesn’t mean he wasn’t more than capable of literally biting your head off. All he needed was one good foot to step on your neck and it would have snapped.”

    “That’s not the point,” she said, though the weakness of her tone caused him to return his eyes to her. He found her even more withdrawn, her arms wrapped around herself as she watched him with fear lingering in her gaze. He felt a twinge of both regret and annoyance, on fed by the other, but kept his face expressionless. The annoyance came because he wasn’t sure what she was afraid of in that moment: him, or the reality of how much danger she had been in. “I didn’t come here for this. I didn’t come to this city to have mammals die because of me.”

    “This city has a way of stripping innocent, idealist thoughts rather quickly, especially for those who step outside of the norm,” he said, this time keeping his gaze on hers as she turned her eyes towards him. Her gaze was haunted, lavender no longer cautious and curious as it had been before. Now she looked at him as if she couldn’t understand  _what_ he was as if he was something more than what she was seeing. Which was not far from the truth. “You are here now. I offered you the chance to return to Bunnyburrow; I tried to tell you what this city was like. I’m sorry if you believed that you could be protected from mammals who want to  _murder_ you without violence.”

    “Violence, yes!” she shouted, causing him to raise one dark brow as her gaze heated. Anger was far better than the fretting and near despair he had seen forming before. “But you didn’t need to kill him! You could have restrained him or knocked him unconscious. You could have called the police! And where were the police when all of this was happening?”

    “Hm. Not a bad question,” he considered, rubbing one finger down the length of his muzzle in consideration for a moment. The ZPD had told her that they could not protect her, but there should have been some presence at the Courthouse just in case things had turned very ugly. Well, uglier than an assassination attempt, at any rate. Realizing that her eyes were still on him, still angry, frightened, and unrelenting, he released a low sigh as he dropped his paw and gave an offhand wave. “What exactly do you want from me, Carrots? If you expect a promise not to kill when someone makes a move on you, then you’re going to end up getting killed. Or  _I’ll_ end up getting killed. Neither one of those scenarios would be constructive from a professional standpoint, for either of us. It is hard to defend a case when you’re not breathing. So what would you like me to do? Issue a verbal warning?”

    “Maybe! Yes!” When he lowered his muzzle to look at her as though she had lost her mind, she rushed on. “I mean, a warning. Something to at least give them a chance to change their minds. And when they realize that they can’t win, give them a chance to leave.”

     _This bunny is going to be the death of me,_ he groaned inwardly, even as he rolled his eyes away from her and looked at the ceiling of the car. “The mammals that will come for you are not the sort that ‘change their minds,’ Hopps. But for the sake of your peace of mind, I will issue a verbal warning and allow them the chance to change their minds. But only  _when_ it is clear that I have the advantage. I will not take chances with misplaced morality and pity for those that would sooner run a knife across your throat than listen to all the legal reasoning in the world.”

    Watching her work through the words behind eyes that were still unhappy with the subject and his proposed offer of at least a temporary solution was a try on his patience. He kept it, however, until she gave a slow nod.

    “For now, I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?” she said, gripping her suitcase and opening the door on her side of the car.

    He followed her after sliding his sunglasses back into place, stepping into the shaded heat of the city. Here it was quiet, at least. The sounds of the forest across the street and the river that ran down the face of the mountain very nearly drowned out the bustle of the city that waited just beyond the two massive buildings on either side of the small office. He gazed out at it silently for a moment before he heard her close her door, stepping to the front of the car to meet her; and found her intentionally keep a distance between them when he drew close.

    The flare of annoyance was as quick as the paw he shot out to grip her arm, dragging her around and lifting her up in a motion so sudden that she dropped her suitcase with a cry of alarm. He shoved her hips onto the still warm hood of the car and leaned in close to her. He saw her reaction instantly, the way her eyes widened and her nose flared and twitched quickly even as her paw shot into her jacket to reach for the Taser he knew she carried. This time, he didn’t let her draw it. His paw snapped over her wrist and pinned it flat against her chest as she stared up at him in open shock. Feeling the way she trembled as she tried to draw away from him only increased his annoyance when the motion caused her to lie flat on the hood of the car under him. Fighting it back, he kept her pinned as he leaned over her with an impassive expression. An expression that he didn’t reflect how he felt as the scent of her reached his nose all too clearly.

    “You’re afraid of me now,” said simply, feeling the quick rabbit beats of her heart against the pads of the fingers he pressed into her chest on either side of that neat, black tie. “You should be afraid of every fox in this city. Not all of them want you dead, of course. That’s not how this works. But you should always be aware of them, because if even one of them wants you dead then you should watch of all of them. Except for me.”

    “Why?” she said, her voice a squeaky whisper as she stared up at him. Her gaze moved over his face, his muzzle, and watched his eyes for a long moment.

    “Because I am here to protect you, and I am the only one in this city that I can promise will never hurt you,” he said lowly, feeling the anger fade as he felt the muscles in her arm relax under his grip. When she tugged on it, he eased his grip enough for her to withdraw it from the jacket. And then she surprised him by reaching up with trembling fingers, her tiny pink tongue sliding out over her lips once in a way that drew his gaze to them; and then she lifted his sunglasses from his muzzle easily, pulling them away.

    “Say it again,” she said softly, wide lavender eyes unwavering as they held his, and maybe there was a little more hope in them as her ears pulled up to focus on him.

    “I will never hurt you,” he said, his voice low as he held her gaze. He understood her need to see his eyes when he said the words, though it made him twitch when he realized that her scent was pleasant. A little sweet, a little earthy. A little too appealing.

    “All right,” she whispered, and he stood still when she slipped the glasses into his shirt pocket rather than placing them back onto his muzzle. “Are you going to let me up now?”

    For a moment, he considered not letting her up. A flighty thought, one that only lasted for a moment when he wondered how she might react if he leaned in closer, if he decided to breathe her scent a little deeper. Instead, he reigned to the curious and frustrating interest in a bunny and dismissed it as anger and close proximity. When he offered his paw, she hesitated for only a moment before she placed her smaller one in his. The silky feel of her tiny paw against the pad of his palm only reinforced how small she seemed, and how defenseless against the city at large. However, once she was on her feet and had recovered case, she no longer tried to press distance between them.

     _It is progress,_ he thought again, as he walked with her to the door of what would be her home for the duration of her stay in Zootopia.

 

* * *

 

    Unpredictable. It was a simplistic way to describe the directions life took, as plans were laid out so carefully, every single detail seen to, every possible outcome predicted and compensated for before the plan was even set into flawless motion. Being prepared for change was something she had always been good at. It was through this, and many other factors, that she had attained the place in the world she now held; a position that, now, had her sitting alone in the dark with her elbows resting on the smooth surface of the desk, muzzle resting on her delicately folded paws. The light of the monitor was reflected in narrowed golden eyes, the images on the screen playing over and over again in a constant loop. A reminder of how even perfectly laid plans could be changed before they even began due to something so unexpected that no amount of forethought could have predicted it.

    The fact that she learned of these things from a news report rather than a proper status update from her agent? That meant that the fox she watched on the screen had intended to be seen. Perhaps he had not known the assassin was coming as she had, but he had done nothing to keep himself from the public eye from the moment he had arrived on the scene with the bunny lawyer in front of the courthouse. No attempt had been made to move the short, efficient battle with the tiger away from the cameras or the jabbering voices of the journalists that reported the event. There was no rush in the way he stood over the tiger, looking like some emotionless, compassionless, brutal deity for just that moment in her eyes before he had taken a life without hesitation. Even as she watched it for what must have been the hundredth time, it caused the sharp tip of one ear to twitch when he brought his weapon down. The lightening quick violence and death were witnessed, recorded, spread to the masses by a means that even she could not suppress. The fox that had not so much as made a ripple in the pond who’s surface she kept glass-smooth for years had suddenly created a shock-wave so large that the entire city would tremble from it.

    His message.

    His warning.

    The return of Nicholas Wilde.

    Golden eyes reflected the image on the screen when one claw tapped a key to pause it, capturing the moment just as he handed the suitcase to the rabbit. The ache in her chest was ignored as she stared at the handsome male that she had once known so well. A statement would be needed, and in this case, the truth would work best. The Mayor and the Council did not know who this fox was or why he defended the rabbit that had been invited into Zootopia. But his actions were to be applauded by the government, not vilified. The fact that he had interrupted her plans, would force her to rethink and plan around this new and completely unexpected element? That would not change the outcome.

    Her gaze rose to the unhappy shadows that gathered around her desk when she switched off the screen at last, leaning back in her chair with her paws folded delicately in her skirted lap.

    “Welcome home,” she whispered into the dark, as a small smile curved the muzzle of the Administrator.

 


	7. Scoundrel in the Holt

The cabin was everything that one would expect from a token gesture to an unwelcomed guest. Standing in the center of the main room, the bunny looked around with dispassionate eyes and a somewhat weary expression. Her first day in the city was not what she had expected, he knew. From the moment a fox had been the one to greet her at the train station in Bunnyburrow, to the attack in broad daylight only minutes after leaving the courtroom. There was a small part of him that was glad the attack had come and had been so sloppily attempted; that little part that saw the unavoidable fact that she would not understand how much danger she was in otherwise. There was a much larger part of him, a larger part than he expected or appreciated, that regretted the danger she had been put in and her unavoidable reaction to that danger. More importantly, her reaction to him because of that danger. Naïve as it was, her plea - or demand, depending on how the words ran through his mind - for him not to kill had been very Judy Hopps and was far from out of line.

As she wandered the small office without comment she held her suitcase by the handle with both paws in front of her. A clearly feminine stance, one that could normally be attributed to fear and uncertainty in this situation, was different with her. Those deep violet eyes moved around the main room with an air of consideration. Of planning for the future of the little building. He had to wonder exactly what she was considering and what plans were running through that lawyer mind of hers. He honestly had no idea where they would begin. Just as she had been outside of her element in the streets of Zootopia, he was out of his in this little office on the other side of the law. Not that he expected he would learn much from this, outside of how stubborn and opinionated bunnies could be, but it would be interesting to see where she would start. She had no friends in the city that he knew of, and her list of contacts must have come from the Otterton case file. That wouldn’t be enough and he knew it.

And maybe that was for the best, he decided as he moved around the room. Maybe if she lost, if the appeal failed, she would return to Bunnyburrow and get on with her life like any sane bunny would. Out of the city, out of danger, out of his line of sight. It certainly would be for the best in his mind. Even if it killed a little bit of that light in her, that determination and hope that had drawn him to help her, it would be worth it. Even if the idea of this city damaging that light brought rise to anger he had almost forgotten he could feel.

Distracting himself with the ‘office’, if it could be called that, did not take long at all. It was smaller than he had expected, though neat as a pin. It wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination derelict or abandoned. The entire place smelled as clean as it looked, making it obvious that someone had gone over it with a toothbrush not long ago to ensure perfection. The furniture had a sparkling new, unworn look about it. The desk near the door wasn’t the cheaply thrown together constructs that a mammal would buy at Woyliemart; it looked like something you would spend a few thousand bucks on to give the room a modern feel. A glance at the kitchenette assured him that it was going to be fully functional and well stocked, even if it hardly looked large enough to service a bunny, let alone a fox like himself.

Aside from the overall feeling that the building itself was old, which he knew already, the size was really the only off-putting thing about it. The desk and the kitchenette took up a large part of the space in the main room and a quick glance into the bedroom confirmed that it was even smaller and just as sparsely furnished. The single personal desk was just the right size for a bunny, the bed was perhaps a little more generous even if there was no way he would fit into it himself.

Where that thought had come from, he wasn’t sure but dismissing it took a moment, during which he glanced at Hopps out of the corner of his eye and found her watching him with high ears and an interested expression now. After a quick check of the bathroom, the door to which was oddly set close to the kitchenette, he turned to step back into the main room. He knew that she was standing behind him, though he hadn’t been aware of how close until his turn almost had them running into each other. She had set her case down beside the bedroom door, and was in the process of unbuttoning her suit jacket when she looked up at him with one brow lifted.

“No assassins in the bathroom?” she asked, causing his ears to twitch slightly. There was only the slightest bit of scorn in the tone, but it was enough to cause his ears to quiver.

“No, no assassins in the bathroom,” he said, allowing a little smirk to lift the corner of his mouth as she shoved him out of the way.

“Good, because I want to get started now and I need to freshen up first,” she said as she stepped into the bathroom. He waited one second - during which he considered the fact that she had actually said ‘freshen up’ which was adorable - until the door started to close before he slapped his paw into the door to prevent it. She frowned at him through the narrow opening, something that he expected as he leaned against the doorframe and kept his hand on the door.

“There are no windows in the bathroom,” he stated simply, causing her to glance around and confirm the fact for herself. “And I just had a look around myself. This is the only reason I am letting you close this door.”

“So you’re telling me,” she started as she released the door and crossed her arms while looking up at him. Her lack of surprise made it clear that she did remember the open-door rule that he had set upon taking this job. “That every time I need to use the bathroom, you are going to have to look around first? Like someone could sneak past you of all people?”

“Trying to play my ego won’t work here, Carrots,” he responded, tipping his head to the side slightly as he held her not-so-happy gaze with his own. “Just making sure you understand that the rules haven’t changed.”

“So outside of this bathroom, I have no privacy?” she questioned, her gaze narrowing on him in a way that held a spark of challenge. “There isn’t exactly a lot of room in here as it is. You should just sleep in my bed for all the space you’re giving me.”

The fact that the statement reflected his earlier thoughts had a touch of heat sliding across the back of his neck in a way that surprised him as much as the scent of her had on the hood of the car. Outwardly, he only raised his eyebrow at her in a mirror of her own. He held the pose for a moment in silence and waited for a few seconds. Then her pupils dilated and the faintest hint of darkening pink in her ears told him that she really grasped what she had just said to the very male fox in the room. He allowed a toothy grin to slide up the length of his muzzle, taking a little satisfaction in the fact that it started her nose twitching.

“As long as you keep the door open, I don’t think we need to go that far,” he said, keeping his tone even enough that she wouldn’t hear the humor in it. “If you can’t keep the door open, you’ll just wake up one morning missing a door.”

“You’re kidding,” was her deadpan reply, to which he just looked at her in silence for a moment. She made a small, frustrated sound and because he had removed his paw from the door, slammed it in his face.

He turned his back on the door when the sound of running water reached his ears, another slow glance around the small office making him shake his head slightly. She was right about one thing: there was almost no space in this building. On one paw, it was going to make the act of monitoring the comings and goings of anyone entering the building extremely easy. On the other, if anyone ever managed to get into the building and he was forced to defend her, he was going to have to strategize exactly how to handle that. The total lack of distance between the front door and every corner was an issue, though the size of the entrance did mean that no one the size of a tiger would be able to easily move through the door or within. Advantages, disadvantages. He assessed them silently as he waited, walking over to the window beside the front door to draw the blinds down.

The sight of the black and white of the ZPD cruiser pulling into the drive behind their car was not a welcome one, but not an unexpected one. Even less welcome was who stepped out when the passenger side of the car opened. A body the size of Hopps’, slender to the point of gangly, beady eyes and a sharp muzzle was all he needed to see. What had once upon a time been ratty and unkempt fur was now as sleek and groomed as the uniform that hung crisply from the body of Lieutenant Weaselton. Somehow, even in the uniform of the ZPD with all of the shining brass and hopeful blue, the small predator just looked dangerous. And Nick knew very well that he was dangerous, in his own way. Dangerous to anyone who wasn’t expecting him, didn’t see him coming.

“What is it?” Hopps asked from behind him, causing him to finish closing the blinds as he turned to face her. She did look fresh, he noted offhandedly; cheek fur smoothed, eyes a little less tired and a lot more curious.

“The ZPD,” he said, lowering his voice and flicking his gaze to the door just as the knock came. “It might better if this particular officer didn’t see me.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes flicking towards the door. A frown crossed her muzzle when he placed his back against the wall beside the door, holding one finger to his muzzle.

“Bad cop,” he whispered, speaking so low that he was sure even she could hardly hear him as he flicked his gaze to the door. “The worst kind. Be careful.”

While the killing of the tiger had been perfectly justified, it didn’t mean he wanted to parade himself in front of the ZPD. He had been seen in the public eye for the first time, had even been caught on camera because he had allowed it. But there were some people, those few who knew of his existence, that would rather have remained uninvolved. Especially an ‘officer’ like Weaselton. He would avoid it, if possible. But if that weasel so much as laid a claw on Hopps…

He closed his eyes and opened his ears and nose when the front door was opened, covering his presence as well as a slab of wood and paint could.

“Well, good afternoon cutesy,” came the unmistakable and generally offensive sound of Weaselton’s voice. “Lieutenant Weaselton. Miss Hoops, right?”

“Judith Hopps,” Judy corrected him, her tone prim and cool. She could turn on that lawyer voice like a switch, he realized, and wondered why she didn’t use it with him.

“Hopps, right. Well, you’re already big news in the city, Hoops. Big news. It seems you’ve been on TV, which is why we’re here today. A murder was committed. I wanted to know if you could tell me where to find the fox. You know, the one you left the scene with. The killer.”

Searching back through his mind, Nick remembered the driver of the cruiser has been a tiger. Tigress. He knew that build, even if he hadn’t seen her face clearly. Fangmeyer. This allowed him to relax, if only slightly, as he pressed his head back against the wall without a sound and continued to tune himself to what was happening on the other side of the door. The shuffle of unpadded paws on the floor and the steps of padded beyond the door told him that Weaselton had barged into the office. His wandering steps didn’t take him far, though, before he turned to face Hopps again. The tiger entered the building, slowly, after. He was forced to imagine poor Fangmeyer squeezing through the smaller front door.

“As a witness to the act of self-defense that has no doubt been seen by every news watching mammal in the city, we both know that murder will never cross the prosecutors desk. And I assume that you have also come with a signed warrant to enter this office? As a guest of the Administrator, it is not reaching outside of the bounds of law to assume that I am protected under the same laws as the citizenship of Zootopia.”

So official and sharp it made him chuckle internally even as he tracked the steps of the weasel towards the kitchenette. The light huffs of Weaselton’s breathing meant he was looking for a scent, one that he would no doubt find. The fact that he would need to make himself known seemed more plausible by the second.

“You really should consider who you want to be your friend in this city, Hoops.” The tone dripped with distain.

“I know who my friends are in this city, Lieutenant Wuzzleton.”

“It’s _Weaselton_. Lieutenant Duke _Weaselton_.”

It may have been small of Nick to enjoy the way her own play on the intentional name game added irritation to the weasel’s voice, but that didn’t stop him. Another few steps, padded paws, this time towards the bedroom door. The quicker, longer strides of the hopping bunny put her right in front of the door. Nick winced slightly when her heard the ‘whump’ of a paw slapping to Weaselton’s chest, followed by her voice.

“I am going to have to insist that you produce a warrant, Lieutenant. Otherwise, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

He had no doubt that the weasel knew he was in the office somewhere. Scent carried. Just like the musty scent of the other predator that was slowly permeating around the door to reach his own nose. A scent which quickly mixed with that of the bunny. And that annoyed him down the tip of the tail he had been stepping on to stop the agitated twitching of the tip. If he had to move, he could cover the distance from the door in about a second, and the weasel was closer.

“Listen, cotton tail,” Weaselton said, his voice losing the friendly scorn he had managed to hold up until now. Now the voice held all of that seedy, wedeling, slimy, underhanded, unfriendly darkness that Nick knew existed inside of the ZPD officer. “I know you think you know what’s going on in this city, but you don’t. There are mammals in this city, predator and prey, that would love to get their paws on a cute little bunny like you. All sort of nasty, unspeakable things could happen if you don’t choose your friends carefully.”

How close his voice was to Judy made Nick’s fur crawl and his paws clench. Slowly, he eased them and drew in a very slow, silent but deep breath. He had to calm down. He had to regain the calm. Proximity didn’t equal threat. Calm. Emotionless.

He had to remember what happened when he forgot the calm.

“Lieutenant.”

The voice was Fangmeyer, low but feminine and full of hesitant warning. She didn’t want to directly cross her superior, considering that he was nothing more than a spy in the ZPD for whoever pulled his strings, but she at least tried to calm him.

“Quiet,” came the sharp reply from the weasel who clearly had no interest in being calmed. Weaselton’s voice had changed. It sounded… Wet almost. Like the sound his own tongue made when he licked the roof of his mouth. “You understand what I’m saying to you, you stupid hick? You’re in my city now. And there are people here who would be more than happy to pick your bones clean and make you disappear.”

Drooling. That was the change in his voice that was noticeable even over the not so veiled threat. The hunger of a predator aroused by the presence of prey close at hand. Sickened, furious, Nick pulled himself away from the wall and edged the door open when the sudden, sharp sound of flesh smacking into flesh made his heart jump. But it wasn’t Judy who made the groaning cry before a body hit the floor.

“Don’t touch me,” came the rabbit’s normally sweet voice, trembling but sounding just as furious as he was. Amazingly, she didn’t raise it at all; she could have been talking to an obstinate witness from the tone and volume of the words. “Don’t threaten me. I’ve had enough warnings and speeches for one day. I’m not about to let you come in here and intimidate me by bearing your teeth and flashing your badge.”

“You bitch!” Weaselton snarled, and even if the pain in his voice was still obvious, so was the rage.

Nick stepped from behind the door just in time to see the weasel, down on his knees and holding his crotch with one paw, reach for Judy with the claws of the other. Then he was treated to the sudden jerk and seizure of the slender body, accompanied by the ‘pop pop pop’ of a Taser being discharged before the weasel crashed fully to the ground. Nick glanced from the still twitching weasel in blue to the bunny who stood over him. She looked on slightly stunned herself. But the wide stance, the way she held the Taser with both hands and the way she glared down at the one she had just used it on gave him a sort of warm appreciation. His first impression of her had been on the nose: she _was_ ready to fight.

Seeing Fangmeyer - who was stooped over in the small office - pause her advance towards the bunny at the sight of him, he held up one hand to bring her to a complete stop. After a short hesitation, the tigress backed down and made her way back to the front door where she could keep watch. Still conscious, the smaller predator was still suffering the muscle spasms from the electric shock when Nick crouched down beside him. Those wide eyes recognized him, obviously. Eyes that were filled with fear and flicking towards the tiger by the door desperately, seeking help that she wouldn’t offer.

“No need to panic, Lieutenant,” Nick said, his tone as cold as the paws that grabbed the slender shoulders to drag the weasel to his feet. Not all of the tension was from the aftereffects of the Taser, not once Nick set the now trembling male on his own two paws before reaching out to brush at his uniform. “We’re all friends here, right? And as friends, we are capable of doing each other favors.”

Drawing the weasel to his side in an almost companionable way, he started to walk towards the door, all but dragging the other with him as he gave a nod to Fangmeyer to head out to the cruiser. When she did without a word and without complaint, he considered buying that tigress some flowers. Or in her case, maybe a new tranq-gun.

“The way I see it, you’re right,” he continued as he walked, well aware of the bunny following and watching them. “This city is dangerous. And since you seem to be so aware of how dangerous it could be for Miss Hopps, I am counting on you to do what you can to keep her safe. I know, I know. The ZPD can’t officially get involved, but I have a feeling that won’t matter.”

When Fangmeyer opened the door to the passenger side of the cruiser, Nick lifted the weasel into the seat and sat him upright. He could tell at this point that Weaselton had full control of his body again, but had wisely chosen not to resist what was careful handling. The fear in his eyes, however, was more than clear as Nick stepped up next to the seat of the large vehicle so he could stand muzzle to muzzle with the smaller predator.

“All you have to do is let me know if you catch wind of someone plotting against the bunny there,” he continued as he reached over the seat, which was propped up for smaller mammals. Pulling the seatbelt across the other male, he snapped it into place and met the weasel’s eyes. “You see, Lieutenant, it’s my job to protect her. And I know that I can count on you to help me keep her safe. Because I’ll know exactly who to go to if she were to vanish. And if _anything_ were to happen to her that could have been prevented with a little common sense, I’ll know exactly who will hear my grievance at the ZPD.”

It was clear that the weasel got the message, in part because he focused on the slight curl of his muzzle; just enough of a snarl to make it clear only to the other predator that his patience and friendly nature were not boundless. Those mud red eyes were wide, the corners of his muzzle twitched as that eternal war between anger and fear was waged under the green eyes of the fox. When Nick reached up to pat his cheek with one friendly paw, the flinch made it clear which one had won the day.

“I knew I could count on you, Duke,” he said amiably, his gaze turning to the pretty tigress who was watching him with a small, almost unnoticeable smirk on her broad muzzle. “You might want to take him to the hospital. A kick to the groin and a Taser shock just can’t be good for you.”

“I’m counting on you, Duke,” he said again, his tone cheerful as he jumped down from the cruiser and swung the door closed.

Realizing that Judy was standing beside him now, he glanced down at her with one brow raised. She still held the Taser in one paw, still looked annoyed with her ears high and trembling and her mouth set into a frown. Not afraid. Not in any way that he could see. Her nose wasn’t even twitching.

“Are you going to give me another speech about how dangerous things are in this city?” she asked, her eyes still following the cruiser until it vanished into the traffic further down the road.

“Not while you’re holding that Taser,” he replied, not taking his eyes off her until she raised hers to his.

“Good,” she said, tucking the weapon into her suit jacket before she turned on her paw and marched back into the office. “Because we have work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long delay, Sunderance continues! http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-6-2-Scoundrel-in-the-Holt-658300701
> 
> [Find the Comic Here!](http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-6-2-Scoundrel-in-the-Holt-658300701)


	8. Shadow Of Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See the Comic by TheWyvernsWeaver here: [Sunderance](http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-7-Shadow-of-Power-665811129)

    “I don’t like accusations being made against my officers,” the cape buffalo rumbled, making an imposing figure behind the equally imposingly large desk. Which was in an imposingly large office where the bunny and fox sat in a chair that was imposingly large enough to seat them both with space to spare. Space that Nick used to remain standing off to the side, leaning against the back of the chair with one leg crossed over the other and his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked far more relaxed than she felt. “Especially when you have no proof to back up your  _claim_.”

    “I am not accusing your officers of anything,” Judy replied, sitting up straight with as professional an air about her as she could manage with her legs dangling four feet off the floor and her neck craned back so she could meet the gaze of the Chief of Police. “Not directly. I am simply not leaving anything to question, and the Otterton murder trial has a great many questions that were never answered. Many of them dealing with the response time of the first officer on the scene and the anonymous tip that led to action being taking in the first place. And on that subject, was the caller ever identified?”

    “Miss Hopps,” the Chief replied, sliding on his wire-frame glasses as he looked down at a file on his desk. It seemed to her that he had been prepared for their arrival, if not annoyed by the intrusion. “Maybe things are different in the Commonwealth, but here in Zootopia anonymous means unidentified. We are not in the habit of hunting down calls of this type for one very simple and obvious reason: if we did, then mammals would stop giving anonymous tips. And all the precious arrests that come, as a result, removing dangerous mammals from the streets, would stop. Is that all you’ve come to ask me about, or would you like to ask another stupid question?”

    The sweetly sarcastic tone of his voice and the acidic smile that was painted on his broad muzzle caused her anger to rise quickly, as did the fact that the fox beside her had made not a sound since entering the ZPD. He even had his sunglasses on again. Indoors. And because she was irritated, that single fact made her want to swipe them from his muzzle just because wearing sunglasses inside was so…

    Realizing that she was projecting and losing focus, she centered her mind on what was important. The obviously unhappy Chief Bogo was trying to stonewall her and she knew it. The question for her was whether he was going it because he had taken part in the cover up, or because he was defending his department.

    “I am aware of what it means,” she said, squaring her shoulders and lifting her ears as she looked directly into his dark eyes. “I am also aware of cases where anonymous tips have been used to cover up crimes. Or frame another mammal for a crime, as the case may be with Otterton. Combined with the exceptionally rapid arrival of the first responder, it does bring a shadow of doubt to my mind. And because it brings it to my mind, it will be brought to the attention of the court.”

    This caused the darkly pleasant smile to drop from the massive mammal’s muzzle, curving instead into a deep frown as he folded his hooves on the desk in front of him. She could see that he was working on another sharp reply but plowed ahead before he could speak.

    “The way I see it, Chief Bogo, is that you have two primary options here. The first,” she said, reaching into her case to draw out a manila folder and stand to place it on his desk. “Is to look over this copy of the report. I have noted the inconsistencies, the oddities, and everything that I am likely to bring to the attention of the court during the appeal. This will allow us to discuss and possibly iron out some of the problems. Come to an agreement on the language used when this file is presented as evidence. You might even find yourself noticing the same problems that I have, which could lead us to work together to correct a miscarriage of justice. One that happened under your watch.”

    His face went from expressive and just as annoyed as she was, to expressionless calm as he ignored the file she had placed in front of him. “And the second?”

    “The second,” she began as she sat again, doing her best not to feel foolish in the overly large chair as she kept her head of steam going to push forward. “Is that I present the same evidence to the courts without your assistance in translating the events leading up to the arrest of Mr. Otterton. It will be entirely up to me how I present and interpret what I have been given to work with. And given the very public nature of the trial, we both know that it won’t take long for every bit of it to reach the public at large. I won’t be gentle and I will be forced to let them know that I received no help from the ZPD in my investigation.

    “A mammal’s life is on the line, and I will make sure that every second is put under the microscope in the court’s eyes and those of the public. I don’t want that to sound like a threat. But I am not going to be stonewalled because you feel you have to protect your officers.” She met and held his gaze for a long moment, during which his ears flicked twice and his eyes considered her. “If you really believe that the actions of the ZPD are beyond reproach in this case, then you will take the second option. But if there is any doubt in your mind – even a tiny bit – then I hope you will have a look at that file and help me. Showing the ZPD’s willingness to take care of its own means more than shielding them when they do wrong.”

    She could all but feel Nick’s gaze on her, much more clear and intimidating than the one of the buffalo in front of her. It was like a chill running down the back of her neck and had her wondering if some long-buried instinct meant to help avoid predators was kicking in because of him. The idea was silly, a little insane even. As was the way it almost made her want to fold down her ears and bolt. It also confused her that she wondered why he was watching her now. Was he trying to silently warn her off, urge her to play nice? Or was he impressed? Given his amused reaction to her dealing with Otterton, he seemed impressed when she showed that she did have a spine. And somehow, the feeling warmed her. Warmed her enough to have the fur of her back feeling hot and itchy when she turned her eyes back to meet his eyes for a moment.

    “You’ve made the inevitable seem like a favor to me as much as a threat,” Bogo murmured, distracting her thoughts as he leaned back in his seat with a dour expression. “All right, Miss Hopps. Once I have larger copies made, I will look over your notes on the case.  _If_ I find anything unusual or see that your notes outline possible misconduct or misdirection, I will be sure to discuss it with you. As long as you know that  _if_ I find these things, it will lead to an investigation of my own. Until then, do you have any questions I can answer before looking into the file?”

    “Just one,” she said, reaching into her case to pull out a notepad and carrot pen. “Who were the first responders? The case file I was given records all officers present on the scene, but not who arrived first. I will have questions for them, too.”

    That the Chief of Police would be familiar with one of the most publicized cases in recent history was not surprising when he came up with the two names. “Officer Fangmeyer and Lieutenant Weaselton.”

    With the carrot pen poised over the paper standing still, the slightly stunned bunny craned her head around to look at the dark-suited fox standing behind her. At first glance, it seemed that he was unmoved by the tidbit. It was the fact that his muzzle drew just a little tighter than usual and the fact that she could see the shift of his paws in his pockets that gave his reaction away. “That explains a few things,” she muttered, mostly to herself as she turned her attention back to Bogo. The cape buffalo raise one brow as he looked between the two of them before resting on Nick.

    “Do I need to ask if you know why the Lieutenant called in his remaining sick days?”

    “To avoid the humiliation of walking around the ZPD with a limp?” Nick cut in coolly but with just enough of a smirk to have Bogo glaring daggers at him. Slim shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Don’t look at me, Chief. I promise I didn’t lay a finger on him.”

    “I did,” Judy said, turning to face the Chief again and pressed forward without further explanation. “Which could make it problematic to question him. To say that he would be a hostile witness might be an understatement.”

    “Would you care to elaborate?” Bogo said, waving one hoof in almost friendly irritation. She felt that he didn’t like being left out of the loop, and rightly so.

    “He came to see me in my new office, somehow managing to arrive only minutes after I did,” she began, quietly realizing that this seemed to be a convenient habit that the weasel had mastered. “His attitude was hostile. Aggressive. He claimed he was looking for my bodyguard in connection to the death of the tiger who tried to murder me and when I failed to produce him, he became angry. I was afraid that his actions were heading towards violence, so I persuaded him to stop by kicking him in the groin.”

    There was a beat of silence in the office. Bogo’s stony face betrayed nothing of his reaction for a long moment before he reached over to stab at the phone on his desk. “Clawhauser!”

    “Yes, Chief?” the cheerful voice of the cheetah at the front desk replied almost instantly.

    “Get Weaselton on the phone and tell him that I expect to see him in my office within the hour. Limp or not.”

    “Sure thing, Chief!”

    “I will make sure that he is ready to talk to you when you need him,” he said, his attention now focused on her. The surprise must have been clear on her face and in the set of her ears because he waved her away with a quick flick of both hooves towards the door. “Now get out of my station. I’ll let you know when I’m finished with these files.”

    The door slammed at their backs as soon as they were out of the office, causing her to jump slightly at the violence of it. She frowned a bit, mind already working through the next stop on her long list of people to see, when Nick placed a paw on her shoulder to draw her to the side of the door quickly. The finger he placed over his lips halted her protest before they began as he leaned back against the wall and perked one ear towards the door. A few beats passed in silence, during which she became very aware of exactly how close to him she was. The smell of him caused her nose to twitch rapidly. The scent of male and predator and fox, had he breathing in deeply in a way that made her paws itch to reach out and touch the chest that was so close. She could hear his heartbeat. Steady and almost as quick as her own. She stared up at him for a long moment, her mouth going dry when he turned the dark glasses towards her again. When she opened her mouth to speak, he shushed her again silently. Growing irritated, she frowned at him and opened her mouth to speak anyway when she heard…

    Snickering.

    The sound was faint, muffled, obviously being held back and covered up but it grew louder once it started in a quick chuckle from Bogo’s door. Her ears perked when she realized that it was Bogo himself who started to laugh in sporadic bursts; the sort of laughs that came when something that shouldn’t have been funny  _was_  funny. Her gaze darted to the door and then back to Nick, her heart skipping a little beat when she saw what might have been the first real smile spreading upwards along the narrow muzzle. She told herself it was the show of sharp, predatory teeth that had her holding her breath for a moment. It had nothing to do with the way that smile seemed to warm his face, and the fact that she would have killed to see his eyes in that moment was just…

    Then the moment passed along with the sound of amusement from the office. The smile faded as he turned his gaze to glance around the lobby for threats, which seemed silly to her inside of the ZPD, his face was stoic again. Back to business as usual when he cocked his head towards the exit and waited for her to take the lead before following her out.

     _Damn it._

* * *

 

    “Administrator, Counselor Valter is on the line for you.”

    The announcement from the pleasant female voice coming through the speaker did not interrupt the vixen’s thoughts as her gaze moved over the pad in her paw. The swarm of requests for any information on the would-be assassin’s identity was not aggressive enough to be cause for concern, but neither could they be ignored. The single attempt to obtain a photograph of the body – an attempt made by and overly zealous and possibly desperate armature journalist – had been met with a gentle removal from the morgue and a refusal to press charges by the city. Luckily, the rodent (gerbil, she believed) had not managed to bypass the motion sensors to reach the cold storage locker noted on the charts. Otherwise, the media would now be wondering not only the identity of the tiger but also why his body had been incinerated almost the moment it had been taken into custody. The entity that was mainstream media tended to be an idiotic mass of fools shouting questions and looking for the hot story, no matter how it was presented. But there were always dangerous ones in the mix.

    As she set the pad aside and pulled out a compact to check the status of her flawlessly groomed fur, her mind drifted to the arctic vixen who had questioned Hopps outside of the courthouse. Video of the incident showed that the snowy furred vixen had not seemed afraid despite the deadly, if quick, fight taking place not twenty feet away from her. She had ventured closer, looked focused and had zeroed in on the right thing. While so many tried to find out who the dead tiger was, she was the one who kept sending requests for any information the Council might have on the fox currently acting as guard for the lawyer. This made her interesting and dangerous and very possibly useful in the future.

    After adding just the fainted ruffle to the fur around her ears, because this particular male was a fan of the slightly rumpled look, she glanced at the timepiece on her desk. It had been five minutes since the voice had informed her of the call. “You may put the call through now.”

    “Of course, Madam Administrator.”

    Rising from her chair, she allowed her finger pads to linger for a moment on the controls as she debated refusing a holographic face-to-face. She finally depressed the button, causing the platform on the far wall to light up and the motion cameras around it to begin recording. This was going to be an important call, after all. She could see the cameras twist and adjust as she moved across the room, taking in every inch of her and reflecting it back through the emitters on the platform. A simply vanity, and a necessary one. It allowed her to make sure that the sharp green jacket was nearly pressed to maintain professional air while the dark skirt, cut just above her knees, hugged her hips in a way meant to disarm any Todd with a pulse.

    Whether the aging Red Fox that appeared as a nearly solid figure of colored light when her own image faded still had a heart at all was debatable. But she happened to know exactly how much he enjoyed the way she looked and as she always did for their private conversations, her muzzle parted in a coy smile. Even if the way the fox turned his eyes instantly down the length of her body made her skin crawl under her fur, making her feel the need to scratch at the imaginary fleas his lust painted all over her. If he had been there, she had no doubt that he would be trying to get his paws under her skirt. The perfectly kept military uniform and ruthless intelligence that he did possess were sometimes overwhelmed by his endless libido for younger, more attractive vixens. Such as herself. Which was why she had made a point of never being alone with him.

    “Kyubi,” he said in a cheerful tone. The use of her first name forced her to carefully manage her smile, lest it turn into a snarl. But she allowed him to continue without interruption. “It is always  _such_ a pleasure to see you. I was beginning to wonder if your assistant told you I was waiting.”

    “General,” she replied with a slight tip of her head and a friendly, if chilly, tone. The use of his rank rather than his name caused his openly over-familiar smile to hesitate for a moment, but she continued, “it is good to hear from you. I was minutes away from calling you myself. Thank you for taking that step for me.”

    “Of course, of course,” he said, his ears perking as he folded his paws behind his back. She also noted that he puffed his chest out more than was needed and kept a sharp-toothed grin on his muzzle. “It seems we have a new face on the streets. Two, actually.”

    She was already aware that he was an attractive male, even with the graying fur around his muzzle and ear tips, and a prime physical specimen. But just to please him and loosen his tongue, she took a moment to openly appreciate that physique as she raised one paw to her muzzle. Tracing her claw through the creamy fur under her muzzle lightly as she raised her eyes to him, she could see the interest written all over his face. All in all, the little dance she led between them was about as subtle as sending a tiger to assassinate a rabbit less than fifty yards from a courthouse.

    She was happy about neither.

    “Yes, so it would seem. The tiger was a bit of a surprise,” she said, giving a little shrug as she turned her attention away from him for a moment, golden eyes resting on a dark corner of the room in seeming contemplation before she turned her gaze back to him. “We have yet to identify him. I was wondering if you might be able to provide some insight?”

    “That is an interesting thing to wonder,” he said and for a moment she was almost certain that his intelligence was going to outpace his libido. Instead, his smile widened a bit as he relaxed his stance and leaned closer. As close as a space limited hologram could lean forward, anyway. “Maybe we can talk about it over dinner tonight. It has been far too long since I’ve had the  _pleasure_ of your company.”

    A delightedly feminine laugh escaped her as she pressed her open paw to her chest, dropping her lashed as she looked at him with feigned surprise and embarrassment. “Nathanial!” she fluttered, keeping her voice on the edge of a giggle as she stepped close to the projector herself. “You old scoundrel. I’m afraid I have too much work to do tonight for such pleasant distractions.”

    She waited until his face fell and his ears twitched to show his disappointment before she stepped away from the projector and headed towards her desk. She added just the right amount of sway to her tail as she paused, looking back over her shoulder at him. She was being about as subtle as he was, which she could have compared to a rhino stampeding through Little Rodentia. The sad part, she knew, was that he fully believed that they were playing a game of subtle innuendos.

    “I am free for lunch, tomorrow, however,” she said, flicking her tail around in a slow swing when she turned back to the screen. “We could meet for lunch. Your office?”

    “My office?” he replied, seeming surprised, confused, and pleased all at the same time.

    “Yes, of course,” she said, grinning at him playfully until his own muzzle parted to return the grin. “We can have a nice meal, talk some business. And see if your desk is still as sturdy as it was during our first meeting. Not necessarily in that order.”

    “I have a new desk,” he boasted proudly, almost causing her to roll her eyes. “Much bigger but just as… Sturdy.”

    “We will see, won’t we, Nathanial?” she said, raising one paw to wiggle her fingers at him in a cutely feminine farewell. “Until then.”

    He likely saw the fact that she cut the connection as cute and coy. A female simply teasing a male. In reality, she had been unable to keep the disgusted scowl from her slender muzzle for much longer. She stalked over to the edge of the clear dome around her, standing near the glass with one arm crossed over her chest and the other raised to rub finger pads over her closed lids. There was an ache forming behind her eyes, largely because of the stupidity of her own Council members.

    She opened them when she became more aware of the presence that was constant in her life. The shadow in the glass, blurred by the lights of the city, indistinct even to her eyes even if she knew the figure as well as she knew her own reflection.

    “Kill him.”

    Sometimes, she didn’t even recognize the coldness in her own voice.

     _“So, no lunch?”_

    There was a cold humor in the masculine voice, mingled with dozens of emotional triggers that she couldn’t identify. She knew that it sent an entirely different sort of feeling crawling over her fur, but she pushed it back when she closed her eyes and allowed it to ease her. The voice continued without waiting for her to reply.

     _“Tonight?”_

    “No,” she said, opening her eyes again and looking towards the military installation where the ZNM was housed. She couldn’t see it even from here but she knew that aside from The Tower itself, it was the most heavily defended place in the city. “He is expecting a guest for lunch and I would hate to disappoint him. In the middle of the day. In his own base of power. And make sure he knows why.”

     _“I will see you tomorrow night, then.”_

    No questions. No doubts. No hesitation. No fear that she was wrong in the decision. It eased her, knowing that the this existed. Calmed her troubled mind as she turned and made her way back to her desk and more pressing matters. It wasn’t until she heard the doors to the private elevator close that she raised her eyes and stared at the closed doors for a moment.

    “Thank you,” she whispered and leaning deep into her chair, allowed her eyes to slip closed.

     

 


	9. King of Pride Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the comic by TheWyvernsWeaver here: [Sunderance Comic](http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-8-King-of-Pride-Rock-667760185)

    As the sun set behind the taller buildings in Savanna Central, the long shadows that crawled across the plaza were a welcome sight to him. Even though the expensive polarized sunglasses, designed to allow nocturnal mammals daytime functionality, allowed him to move about during the day with only a slight decrease in visual acuity, it still eased the stress on his eyes. When the cool of the deepening shadows combined with the light breeze, his ears perked a bit higher as a good deal of the itchiness left his pelt. Now he could see every corner of the square without the need to squint and allowed himself to relax marginally. There were no distant threats. No snipers on the rooftops, no approaching cars, aside from the one they were waiting for. If the plaza had been empty, he might have relaxed more completely but there were still a good number of mammals milling about.

    Keeping his eyes open was required here more than most places. The sound of flowing water from the artificial waterfall cascading down the front of City Hall was more than enough to mask the footfalls of someone trying not to be noticed. The almost impressive building, with its ‘modern design meets flowing traditional architecture’ made a noticeable and pleasant centerpiece in what Nick knew was a fabricated government. The office of mayor held as much power as your average desk clerk under The Administrator, remaining mostly as the public face. The general populous, those who were content to sit back and accept what they were told, knew no better. But those who paid attention, followed the paths of power, realized that the mayor had not made a single significant political move since almost every seat in The Council had been filled by foxes.

    Simply thinking about him seemed to draw ‘the clerk’ out of hiding. The long and large limo that pulled up to the curved drive in front of City Hall had them both at attention. The bunny beside him was already moving towards the main entrance. This had been her choice, to lean on the car for an hour and wait him out after they had been denied access to his office. The refusal had been curt and unusual for the usually open and ready for press time mayor, with no explanation offered aside from a short “He’s in a meeting.”

    Now the seemingly always smiling Lionheart’s ground eating stride carried him out of City Hall, having an animated and one sided chat with the same slender gazelle who had denied them entry into his office.

    “The press conference should be a good chance for us to highlight the improvements made to the city this year,” the thickly-maned male boasted, his attention clearly on anything but the female at his side. Nick, moving one step behind his charge, moved to stand directly in the path leading to the waiting limo. The moment he saw them, the lion’s expression faltered for a moment. Clearly caught off guard, maybe not really understanding the presence of a bunny in Zootopia, it took a full five seconds for that broad muzzled smile to return full force. “Judith Hopps! What a pleasure it is to meet you!”

    Nick managed to restrain his desire to block the massive predator from closing the distance and shoving out an equally massive paw towards the bunny. A paw that swallowed her entire forearm when she offered hers for a shake that was energetic but obviously carefully done before he released her and took a few steps back. Not far or fast enough for Nick to miss the interesting mixture of scents that lingered around the lion. The scent mask he had liberally sprayed on himself didn’t do anything to hide his breath, which left the fox with a rather unique picture in his mind. The two herbivores seemed oblivious to it, which could explain why Lionheart tended to hire prey staffers.

    “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mayor Lionheart,” Judy replied in a pleasant but professional tone. “I was wondering if you could answer some questions or offer me some insight? We came by earlier, but were told that you were in a meeting and couldn’t be disturbed.”

    “Yes, a meeting,” he said, his gaze shifting to the fox for a moment with recognition in his eyes. He took the opportunity to change the subject from his ‘meeting.’ “I can guess why you’re here. An attack on these very streets, not far from this very spot is not the Zootopia you should expect to see. This is a peaceful city, where predator and prey live together in a peaceful coexistence.”

    “Yes, I have already gathered that daylight assassination attempts are uncommon,” Judy replied dryly, drawing out her pad and carrot pen. “But that’s not what…”

    “Assassination is a strong word,” the lion cut her off, tugging at the lapels of his perfectly pressed blue suit while looking distinctly uncomfortable. It might have been because Nick removed his glasses, green eyes focused and interested in the lion. More likely it was because the word ‘assassin’ held strong political undertones over attempted murder. He was quick to brush it off and laid his paw against his chest in what had to be the most sincere look of apology Nick had ever seen. Including mammals who were truly apologetic. “Simply confused aggression towards a guest in our fair city, which I deeply apologize for. And the _lone_ assailant has been dealt with, after all. Your… body guard, I assume, made certain of that.”

    “Apology accepted,” she said, her tone just curt enough that both males and the gazelle standing nearby understood that she didn’t buy it for a second. “But I am actually here about the Otterton case. There was never an official response from City Hall on the murder of Mrs. Otterton.”

    “Ah, Otterton, of course.” To his credit, he didn’t seem surprised nor put off by the change of subject. For all accounts, from a political standpoint, he assumed that a closed murder trial might be an easier subject to handle. “Shame about that. I had the chance to talk to him once, you know. Very intelligent mammal with a lot of good ideas. And a lot of not so good ideas. The city was shocked when he turned to such violence against his own wife.”

    “Shocked because it seemed terribly out of character for an advocate of peace?” she asked, jumping right into the question and answer while Nick set his gaze to wandering the plaza again. “Or because of how quickly the conviction was pushed through the court?”

    “Anytime a mammal of his good standing goes bad, there is obviously shock involved,” Lionheart insisted and, by way of utterly ignoring the accusation of an unfair trial, he pressed on and started towards his limo again. “I am not sure how I can help you, Miss Hopps. As Mayor, the trial obviously concerned me as a member of this great society but I have no sway over the decisions of the court case.”

    “Yes, where the sway begins is a problem in this city,” she murmured, a jab that was enough to make the lion pause in his steps even as Nick rose a brow in her direction. As blunt as she had been with Bogo, that cut showed how sharp her tongue could be, too. His lips twitched when Lionheart turned to face them with his mouth drawn into a thin line of annoyance and more than a little offended. Hopps pressed on, however. “You said you met Mr. Otterton before. What were your personal impressions of him?”

    There was a great deal of pride warring with common sense, Nick could see. She had pushed a button, one that a publicly powerful but secretly powerless male such as Lionheart would see as a personal challenge. And introducing the idea that he could make some difference beyond public appearances and pretty speeches written by the paws of another had to be tempting. And from the way Lionheart relaxed his stance and turned fully to face them again, it was a tempting one.

    “I found him to be very affable. Intelligent and soft spoken, but passionate about his beliefs.”

    “Did any of these beliefs lead you to think that he would turn to violence?”

    “Oh, not at all,” he replied, his smile returning as he seemed to gain his second wind. “Passionate, yes. But he only wanted to talk about cooperation. Between predator and prey, specifically.”

    “He said in more than one interview that he was saddened by the shift in power,” she commented, scribbling on the pad in her paw before she returned her eyes to the lion. Nick noted that her eyes ticked towards the entrance to City Hall and her ears quivered for a moment before she returned her full attention to her current questioning. “Is it possible that this had something to do with how quickly the case was pushed through the court?”

    Keeping the conversation tuned in on one ear, he followed where her eyes had gone. Seeing Chief Justice Bellwether on her way out of the building, muzzle pointed down to her phone as she walked on without a glance in their direction, was of some interest to the fox. Interest, but not enough to distract him from his business as she hurried on her way towards the tram station. His gaze returned to Lionheart as his ears twitched in mild amusement.

    “That almost sounded like an accusation,” he replied, doing his best to sound displeased and failing due to the uneasiness in the tone.

    “It was a question, not a statement,” she replied, keeping her gaze level on him. “It would only be an accusation if I said that I believe this to be the case. But because I have yet to determine if there was some push for his trial to be handled quickly and unfairly, I only have the question: is it possible?”

    It was getting to the point now that every time she opened her mouth, Nick was impressed. He was starting to wonder if he was more easily impressed than he realized. Though it could have something to do with the way she not only kept her cool in clearly hostile territory but also had a knack for staring down mammals that were many times her size and flummoxing them with her lawyerly speak. It was an impressive skill and left him wondering where she had come by it.

    “Mr. Mayor, your dinner appointment is in fifteen minutes,” came the drab and slightly bored tone of the gazelle.

    “Thank you, Meryl,” he replied, nodding in her direction. “That will be all for today. I’ll see you in the morning.”

    “Of course, sir. Have a pleasant evening.”

    “What do you want from me?” he asked at length when he turned his attention to them. “You are asking questions that I can’t answer. I know as much about the Otterton trial as you do. Probably less.”

    Seeming to understand that this was a painful admission for the proud lion, she eased her tone slightly. “Do you happen to have a recording of your conversation with Otterton?” There was that hesitation again, clear in his lack of response and the way his paw raised to scratch through his mane. Hesitation which she plowed through. “Otterton is innocent, Mr. Mayor. The people of this city know it. Helping me will go a long way toward showing them that justice still works and that City Hall will stand up for it.”

    “Fine,” he replied with a weighty sigh, causing Nick’s brow to shoot up fully when he reached for his phone. “If I had such a recording, it cannot make it into court. It is not legal to record private citizens without their knowledge.”

    “Understood.”

    “I don’t even know how it could be relevant to the case,” he murmured and turned towards the limo again as he reached into his suit pocket to pull out his phone. “I’ll have it sent to your office sometime tomorrow. I expect some mention of my cooperation, even if the video doesn’t change anything, Hopps.”

    “Of course, Mayor Lionheart,” she replied, tucking her pad and pen away as she smiled after he climbed into the limo. “Enjoy your dinner.”

    On their way back to the car, Nick considered the conversation even as he considered the square around them. It was nearly dark now, and the number of mammals had thinned to a scant few stragglers. A couple of cheetahs walking hand-in-hand, a hippo in a poorly fitted suit on his way towards the tram station, and the retreating limo of the mayor. And of course, a fox and a bunny climbing wordlessly into the car.

    “So,” he said once he had started the car, stretching one arm over the back of her seat as he turned to face her. “Maybe we could swing back by the courthouse. Get your tongue registered a weapon.”

    Distracted with her thoughts, she blinked and looked up at him with high ears and a small frown curving her muzzle. “What? Why would we do that?”

    “So far today,” he said, holding his paws out in front of her and watching her gaze lower to them as he started to count off on his fingers. “You’ve convinced the courts to accept your appeal, made one of the most stubborn buffalos in Zootopia help you investigate his own officers, and convinced a figurehead that he can make a difference. You have a very dangerous tongue, Carrots.”

    Watching the pink flush crawl up the length of her ears did strange things to him. For one thing, he wanted to reach up and touch them. A compulsion that was strong enough that he had to close his paw and lean back in his seat even as she demurely looked out the front windshield. She was insanely cute, and maybe something a little more than that. But for the sake of not starting an argument, he decided not to mention that as he leaned back and placed his itchy paws on the wheel.

    “It’s late,” she said at last, her eyes focusing on anything but him as she spoke. “We’ll just head back to the office. Look at my notes and get ready for tomorrow.”

    “You’re the boss,” he said, pulling out and starting down the road. “Oh, and you kicked an insane weasel in the balls so hard that he tasted his future children.”

    The laugh that she didn’t quiet manage to muffle into her paw was the only sound she made for the rest of the drive, but it was enough.


	10. Pluto and Proserpina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find the comic by TheWyvernsWeaver [Here](http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-9-Pluto-and-Proserpina-670717816)
> 
>  

    “Everything is fine, mom. I am in the city, I’m on the case and I’m safe…”

    “You most certainly are not safe,” Stu’s voice and face blustered from the phone in her hand. She could all but see his blood pressure rising and released a slow sigh as he continued. “We saw the news! We know you were attacked, practically right off the train! And where were the ZPD? Nowhere near you, that’s where they were!”

    “Yes, but we knew that already,” she commented when her father paused to take a breath, fixing a calm smile on her muzzle and keeping her ears erect. “That is why Nick is protecting me while I’m here. And if you were watching the news, I am sure you know that he is more than capable.”

    She had known that the call wouldn’t be an easy one from the moment she had checked her phone and found sixteen missed calls and a dozen messages. All from her parents. Not to mention the three dozen from other members of her family. The only text she replied to had been the one from Allan, to soothe him while letting her parents spread the word to the rest. If she could ever calm them herself, that was.

    “More than capable. Dangerous,” Stu continued, his voice no calmer and his mood no more cooperative than it had been when she had picked up the phone and had him yelling in her ear. “You saw what he did to that tiger. That’s not normal. That’s not  _right._ A bunny shouldn’t be left in the paws of a predator, especially not a fox. They would creep in at night and eat little bunnies in their beds. It’s just…”

    “Stu, dear,” came the ever soothing voice of her mother along with a soft paw on his shoulder. “Give me the phone and go calm down.”

    “Calm down! How can I…” His voice was cut off when he glanced over his shoulder, then heaved a defeated sigh before he looked back at the phone. “Fine. I’ll just go ‘calm down’ outside.”

    Almost wanting to tell him that she loved him, she stopped herself because she knew it might cause the waterworks to start up in an already emotionally charged call. Her father was right, of course. She didn’t think what he had done to the tiger was right either, but telling him that would only justify further arguments about why she shouldn’t be alone in Zootopia with a fox. Sitting alone on the bed in the dark, unfamiliar room, she knew she was wondering that enough all on her own.

    “Hi, mom,” she said, ears perking when her mother’s face appeared. Thankfully, they hadn’t invited the entire clan in on this call. That would have been chaos. “I’m fine. Really.”

    “You know we’re worried, dear,” the older doe replied, her voice much calmer than her father’s. Through the calm, though, Judy could see the disquiet in her mother’s eyes. “Where… Is he with you now?”

    “He’s in the other room,” came her reply, as one ear twitched towards the open door. The shower was still running. He was in the other room. The fox. Orange and cream fur. Sharp teeth, large paws, and claws that historically had been particularly adept at hunting bunnies. A stranger that she hardly knew, nothing protecting her from him other than his word. Dangerous. So dangerous.

    Naked in the shower, with no doors closed between them.

    Catching herself trying to imagine what such a deadly male would look like naked, she quickly reset her mind to focus on her mother’s words. “Has he told you what he wants? Why he’s agreed to protect you?”

    “No, not yet,” she admitted, intentionally keeping her muzzle from turning into the confused frown it wanted to form. “But I’m sure it’s just money. And I’ll find a way to pay him.”

    “You don’t think he would want…”

    “Mom.”

    “I’m just trying to understand. If he hasn’t told you what he wants, even if he does want money, an amount should be discussed. You’re not the wealthiest mammal in the world, you know,” Bonnie said, her tone more informative than it needed to be. She found herself using a great deal of courtroom facial tricks to keep herself from rolling her eyes and making her mild annoyance obvious. “And if he wants more than you’re willing to pay, I wouldn’t put it past a fox to ask for something more…”

    “Mom.”

    “Alright, alright,” her mother sighed, deflating a bit as she placed one paw over her eyes and took a deep breath. “As long as you’re careful. I trust you.”

    “Thanks, mom,” she replied, letting a little smile show as she squeezed the phone lightly in both paws. It was all she could do when the need to hug her mother struck her hard - all she could do when they were so much further away than they had ever been. “I’ll call you again tomorrow night. Right now, I have about three weeks’ worth of documents and notes to go over in twenty-four hours so I need to go.”

    “Wait, there was something Allan wanted me to tell you,” Bonnie interrupted, glancing behind her into the hall that she knew led to the kits room. “He says he recorded something for you on your carrot pen. He wouldn’t tell me what, but he wanted us to tell you the first chance once you reached the city.”

    She blinked slightly as she reached down to pick the pen up from on top of the notebook beside her, trying to remember a moment when she had been without her pen long enough for her little brother to run off with it to record something. Glancing at the door, she clicked the switch on the side of the pen and listened to the voice of the young buck.

    “Hey, Judy! I just want you to know that I believe in you and know you’ll win! You win in court stuff, right?” he asked, his voice fading for a second before it returned to full volume. “I love you, sis. We all love you!”

    The sudden explosion of voices - all of them belonging to her younger brothers and sisters - saying that they loved her and hoped she came home soon, made her eyes sting as a smile grew. Clutching the pen to her chest for a moment, she turned her gaze back to her mother. “Tell him - them - that I love them, too.”

    “And the being home soon?”

    “I don’t know yet,” she said, deciding to be honest rather than needing to explain later why she had no idea when she would be coming home. “But as soon as I can.”

    “All right, dear,” Bonnie said after a moment of silence, her smile warm if a little sad. “I’m afraid your father is off plowing a field in the dark, so I’ll let you get to your notes. Call me if you need anything, you hear?”

    “I will, mom,” she sighed, wishing she could say goodnight to her dad, too. But just like her mother, she knew that it would just lead to another rant. And she was too tired for that now. “I love you both. Be sure to tell dad that I’ll be fine. I have my fox Taser, after all.”

    “Yes, and we all saw how well that worked,” Bonnie murmured, drawing a grin from Judy before they said their goodbyes.

    Setting the phone beside her on the bed, she stood for a moment in the dark. The shower had stopped running, but there was no sound of motion from the other room yet. Deciding to see if there was anything in the kitchen worth eating while she had a moment to herself, she set the carrot pen carefully on the notebook again before walking out into the main office. Running the idea of what he could want through her mind as she rummaged through the cabinet in the kitchenette, firmly avoiding the prospect of what her mother had been suggesting, she could only come up with two possible answers: legal favors in the future or simply money. Either one of the two would have been fine with her, as long as the legal favors remained legal and the amount of money wasn’t beyond her ability to pay within the next…

    Her train of thought wrecked tragically when the fox stepped out of the bathroom. Orange and cream, no doors between. A lot more of it than she had ever anticipated seeing stood before her when Nick stepped out of the bathroom, towel in one paw raised to slowly scrub at one ear, the other holding his shirt at his side. The bare chest of the male held her attention for a moment longer than she intended and the jolt of surprise was overshadowed by pure fascination. The fact that his fur was still wet and only slightly rumpled allowed her to see the muscle tone beneath. Every line of muscle, holding a predatory strength and agility that she had witnessed earlier that day, trailing all the way down through the lightly colored fur until it started to thicken.

    She realized that it was thickening because her riveted gaze had wandered below his belly. And that had her realizing that the pants of the seemingly un-phased fox remained unbuttoned. Heat raced through every inch of her as she straightened her back and quickly turned her gaze away from him, bracing her hands on the edge of the cabinet as she swallowed thickly.

    “You could dress yourself,” she managed, though even she could hear how unsteady her voice was. Just the surprise of the moment. The fact that the heat lingered and crawled across her skin as she tried to banish the image of him from her mind was simply mortification. It had nothing to do with the way normally cool green eyes had seemed to sharpen and focus on her when her gaze had drifted lower than intended. Or the fact that she could hear the change in the pace of his breathing when he took a few steps away from the door to the bathroom. But he wasn’t moving away from her as she expected.

    Instead, he leaned hip-shot against the counter no more than a foot away from her, slowly scrubbing the towel between his ears as he watched her. The flood of embarrassment caused by her own inability to form more words was overpowered by the fact that she could smell him. Soap, clean fur, something musky and rich. Entirely too masculine: more obviously male than she had expected. It dawned on her that he must have worn a scent mask in public. Whether it was to hide his identity or simply to remain less noticeable, she wasn’t certain. But the effects it had on her with every breath drawn in through a slowly twitching nose confused her. She fact that a sidelong glance at him showed her that his nose was twitching as well didn’t help. The flare of his nostrils, the way his gaze lingered on her even though she was doing nothing more than try to, and the fact that the towel slowly ran down the back of his neck, purposefully ruffling his fur, was as unnerving as it was strangely exhilarating.

    “Did the talk with your parents go well?” he asked, his voice sounding an octave lower than normal. Or maybe it was the fact that she had blood rushing through her ears with every heartbeat.

    “Yes,” she said, now managing to steady her voice as she tried to busy herself looking for food in the cabinet as she had intended, to begin with. The fact that there was food might have surprised her, had there not been a predator radiating his presence little more than a foot away from her. She refused to retreat, however. “I think they are handling it well, all things considered. Concern and warnings, as expected.”

    “About me. I assume,” he added, sounding slightly amused. This drew her gaze from the box of oatmeal she had been pretending to read to him. His lips were parted in a lazy sort of smile, more a show of canines than anything. It was enough to have her gaze lingering on the sharp points of ivory, at any rate. Had her wondering how a fox kept from cutting themselves, which was silly. They weren’t needle-like or knife sharp. She imagined they could slide right over skin without so much as a scratch if it was gentle enough. This had her wondering what it might feel like, how it might affect her, which had her averting her gaze back to the box of oatmeal.

    “You were mentioned, of course,” she admitted, not feeling the desire to tell him that he had been the only subject on her parent’s minds.

    She realized how silly that was, suddenly. Here she was, in a city full of foxes, and her parents were only worried about the one… closest to her. She glanced back at him again, her gaze almost instantly drawn to the easy movement of muscle under fur when he drew himself away from the counter and narrowed the distance between them by half. She was forced to tilt her head back further to look up at him then as he gave a noncommittal grunt, tossing the towel onto the counter beside her. She felt cornered, trapped, and - realizing that she very literally was backed into a corner - was surprised that she wasn’t frightened so much as terribly hot.

    Not so silly, after all.

    “We’ll have to go shopping,” she commented, her voice little more than a whisper. The sound of cardboard creaking drew her attention from the predator’s green gaze to the box she held. A box that she had crushed between her paws. Blushing hotly, she turned away from him too quickly slide the ruined box back into the cabinet. “There is food here, but there are still things that I need.”

    She nearly jumped out of her fur, nose twitching furiously when two large paws came to rest on the edge of the cabinet next to hers. Lavender eyes widened for a moment at the shadow of him consuming hers on the wall, the presence of him all too obvious even without it. Then she closed her eyes when the sound of his breath came closer, so close that she could feel the whisper of each exhale at the base of her ears. The sliver of heat that curled in her belly was not embarrassment. It was a combination of terror and something else she desperately wanted to ignore.

    “If this is what I wanted,” he began, the low tone of his voice humming through her ear as she could have sworn she felt the feather-light touch of his nose against her fur, “in exchange for my protection? Would you give it?”

    Her stomach tightened, turned. Dread and something else crawling through her until she felt that her knees would give out. Had he heard the conversation with her mother? How long had the shower been off before she’d come out into the main room?

    “You… You heard?” She wanted to beat her head against the wall for the fact that her voice sounded so tiny and weak just then, but before she could correct herself he  _did_ touch her. Just the barest pressure of his chest against her back, but enough for her to feel the heat coming off him, to surround her in the smell of clean fox. She could hear his heartbeat he was so close to her now, and it made her ears drop only to rise again when they landed on his shoulders.

    “Answer the question.”

    His voice wasn’t cool now. Wasn’t sarcastic or amused or impatient. She couldn’t place the tone at all. But it was tempting when combined with the hum against her back where only a single layer of fabric separated them. The heat that pooled between her thighs as a rising ache almost had her pressing back into him. The emotions that struggled through her body in just a few moments of closeness to him left her thoughts a jumble for a moment, and she almost considered answering ‘Yes’ just to see how he would react. To see how far he was really looking to go.

    “No,” she said in a rush of breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Another, deeper breath filled with the smell of clean, wet fur and fox was taken before she continued more firmly. “No, never. Never for that.”

    The breath at the base of her ear, that near touch that tormented her, became an actual touch of his warm nose. Rooting into fur, quick, short huffs sending waves of heat rolling over her. She was forced to stifle a whimper when she felt his lips, then the slow drag of teeth against that sensitive flesh of her ear base. Now she knew what they felt like, how gentle they could be. Her eyes fluttered closed, the shock of how tempting it would be to change her mind dragging her thoughts away from the fact that she should have been resisting him.

    “Good.”

    And he was gone. His body, his heat, his breath, his paws, those teeth. She slumped against the counter, breathing the deeply appealing scent of clean, masculine predator as she tried to right the world around herself while staring down at her own paws. She wanted to be disturbed by the tingle that remained where his teeth had touched her. She wanted to be angry that he had been so bold. She wanted to lash out, tell him to get out for ever coming that close to her. But she felt the cold because his heat was gone, her body felt itchy and her mouth was so dry that she was forced to lick her lips before she managed to speak again.

    “What the fuck was that, Nick?”

    “I haven’t decided what I want from you yet, Carrots,” came his reply, now coming from the desk on the other side of the room. She turned to look over her shoulder at him, still not trusting her trembling legs enough to let go of the counter yet. “But I will clarify this now, as you just did: sex was never an option as payment. So you can assure your parents of that much.”

    She watched him take a bottle from the bag he had brought in from the trunk of the car, the amber liquid and expensive label holding her gaze only for a moment before she returned them to him. He was facing away from her now. A sea of red fur down his back to his jerkily swaying tail, lose pants telling her that he still hadn’t bothered to button them. A full day with him, where his stance had always been calm and seemingly at ease, told her that he was tense. His ears may have been upright, but there was a noticeable tremble in them in the effort to keep them upright. Because of this, she almost found herself questioning the ‘as payment’ qualifier that he tacked onto the end of the statement. Instead, she focused on the relief that flooded through her. Relief and curiosity.

    “You don’t know what you want?” The frown came as she straightened herself and ignored the ache that refused to fade, walking towards him as he poured the whiskey into a small shot glass on top of her desk. “How do you not even know what you want? You’ve been driving me around all day. You’ve killed someone. Risked your own life. And now you say that you don’t know?”

    Leaving the glass where it was, he moved to the window without turning to face her still. The twitching of his tail seemed to slow as he gazed out into the night. His ears turned in multiple directions, though never in hers before he finally let the shade snap closed. When he turned back, his eyes were calm again. Cool and quiet as they focused on hers. She forced herself to hold them, to keep her gaze from wandering lower as he moved behind the desk and took a seat. He picked up the glass.

    “You should get some sleep.” The glass was raised and held under his nose for a long moment though his eyes never wavered from hers. Seeing how his pupils dilated as he breathed in the scent of the spirits, how a hunger came into them that she was certain had nothing to do with her, concerned her. Then he licked his lips slowly, his eyes cleared and calmed, and he set the unconsumed drink on the desktop again. “You have a lot of work to do tomorrow. And it has already been an impressive day for the only bunny in Zootopia.”

    She wanted to argue. She had to go over her notes, review files, plan the next day. But just the mention of her day and the one following it seemed to remind her body of how exhausted it was. The desire for answers remained, but the weight of her own limbs seemed to drag her down. And the gaze of the fox was overwhelming and made her body want to react in ways that she wasn’t at all accustomed to.

    “You’re right,” she admitted, rolling her head back in an attempt to ease the tension in her neck. “I’m in no condition to work. Where will you sleep?”

    “Who says I sleep?” he drawled lazily. She sent him a slightly irritated look, one of those ‘get real’ smirks on her muzzle. When his muzzle turned upward in a grin, it eased her somehow. Relaxed a great deal of the tension, even forgiving the fact that her eyes still wanted to wander over him. “I’ll sleep out here. Don’t worry. I have slept in worse. I’ve also slept in better, but I’ll sleep.”

    She had to accept that, for now, even though the idea of a where she could put a fold-out couch in the office was running through her mind as she undressed for bed once alone in her room. After she had crawled into bed, thankful that she had packed a full-length nightshirt given the open-door policy, she lay awake despite her exhaustion. There was no sound from the office now. Or if there was, it was drowned out by the sounds of the night. The chirp of crickets, the call of a nightingale, the rustle of leaves in the wind. It left her mostly alone with her thoughts, questions that needed to be answered. About the case, about the fox one open door away from her, about her sudden and intensely sexual reaction to him, and his lack of an actual cost for his services as her guardian.

    Too much. Too many questions about him. She curled tighter under the blanket as she tried to sort it all in a mind that liked to have answers to every question. A mind that rebelled against the fact that he gave her almost none. The weight of it slowly dragged her near sleep before she heard soft footfalls in the office. Drowsily, she twitched her ears a bit and halfway tried to hone in on what he was doing and where he was going. She woke up, eyes opened though she remained unmoving when she realized that they had stopped at her door. Then all she could hear was his breathing. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Slow, drawn, held and released slowly. She could almost feel his eyes on her as he simply breathed for a few seconds. And she wondered as he did: how keen was a fox’s nose?

    After a few moments, moments which seemed to last forever to her, the breathing slowed to normal and he withdrew from the door. Tension fled her, followed by a foolish feeling that she decided to ignore. She realized her nose was twitching and that her fingers were gripping the sheets so tightly that it was almost painful. Forcing herself to relax, it only took a few seconds of berating herself for sleep to crawl over her.

    “Hello, Papa.”

    His voice from the other room, as if from a dream. Distant. Too far distant to drag her from sleep again. Reminding her of her own father’s words to her.

     _They would creep in at night and eat little bunnies in their beds._

    And though she wouldn’t remember the question the next morning, in that moment it was an echo in her mind as blackness claimed her.

    Why was she so disappointed that this fox had not?

 


	11. Phaethon's Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find the comic on TheWyvernsWeavers DA page here: http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-10-3-Phaethon-s-Fall-676977284

**Maleperduis Military Base**  
Zootopia Outskirts  
Noon

    The black uniform was pressed into crisp lines that fell over his body like a second coat of fur, brass reflecting the sheen of studios polishing that made General Valter proud of whichever soldier had done the job for him this time. One paw moved to adjust his various ribbons and medals proudly as he examined himself in the mirror with a practiced eye. One finger-pad ran over the bridge of his muzzle, checking to make sure that the artificial touch up to his fur coloring was impossible to detect before he tilted it this way and that. A smile that was as warm and charming as any he had ever managed parted his aged muzzle at the male in the mirror, whiskers lifting as he showed just the right amount of bleached white canines. The vanity was not without reason. He had fought his wars, had kept the peace in Zootopia for more than two decades now. And he had done so with the respect of his men, a mind for tactics, and looks that managed to charm even the unreachable Administrator.

    It had been years since the last time she had visited his office. Years since she had convinced him, with both pleasure and logic, that she was the right vixen to lead Zootopia into a new golden age. The pleasure had been a perk and a condition, though her reaction to his advances had been anything but reluctant. All thoughts of her giving her body to him simply to gain his help had been washed away under the heat of her passion, the taste of her mouth when _she_ had taken the lead and guided him towards his own desk. The memory of that evening of passion remained, as clear to him as the scent of her fur and the sound of her desire when she had called his name with her claws raking down his back. They had both been younger then, though she more so, and in the following days he found that her thirst for power easily overcame her thirst for pleasure.

    This was one reason that he was still pleasantly surprised by her acceptance of his invitation to share a meal and relive the pleasures of the past. Turning back to his desk, he ran the conversation over in his mind again to savor the subtle nuance of seduction. The thought did occur to him that she knew he was responsible for the attempt on the lawyer’s life, something that he had been sure would please her. And from her reaction, and her invitation, he had been correct. The grin that crawled up his muzzle when he realized that the advice he had been given from their mutual friend had been genuine was delighted. He would have to repay this favor and repay it soon.

    The soft tone of alert drew his attention from his thoughts to the monitor attached to the surface of his wide and elaborate desk, drawing deep orange eyes to the screen as it flared to life. Leaning forward, the leather of his chair creaking slightly in the silence, he tapped _Incoming Message_ on the screen. The slightly annoyed expression, as he steeled himself to dismiss almost any emergency rather than disappoint his dear Administrator, relaxed into a smile when he saw the golden crest slowly rotate on the screen. As a member of the Council, the crest was a familiar if uncommon sight and in this situation a welcome one. Assuming that Kyubi was letting him know that she was on her way, he lifted his paw again and placed his pad against the screen to allow it to read his pad print.

    When the image of the fox like crest remained unchanged, he frowned slightly in annoyance and tried again. Again, it didn’t clear to show him the message so he punched the button on his desk, dialing for his adjutant. Because the line was direct and always ready to be opened, he waited until the connection clicked through before he spoke without waiting for a greeting.

    “Captain, I have a very important communique coming through and the screen is not responding. I need someone here to fix it _now_. Redirect the message to my phone if possible.”

    The lack of response was unusual, so he raised his finger from the button and pressed again to ensure that the connection had been made. Ears twitching slightly, realizing that he was hearing the normal background noise from the other side of the line, he almost spoke again. His attention was drawn away from the monitor, however, by the very slight sound of something sliding down the wall outside of his door. Frowning, as it wasn’t the first time he had caught one of the honor guard sitting down on the job, he spared the screen one last glance before he stood from his desk. It figured, he decided as strong strides carried him to the door to discipline the lazy solider on his way to find out why his adjutant wasn’t responding. Things always managed to go wrong when he needed them to go perfectly…

    His train of thought was cut off when he opened the door, only to have it abruptly stop. The jarring impact caused pain when his fingers slipped over the knob, furthering his annoyance when he realized that the door had only opened a few inches. It also set off alarms in his mind, sharpening his senses as he slowly released the handle and stared at the crack in the door. Eyes that were no less sharp than they had been in his youth narrowed when he saw the almost invisible wires that held the door closed. They were needle thin and translucent, something that could easily have been missed in a moment of panic for a lesser mammal.

    He was not a lesser mammal.

    There were dozens of them at a quick count and, from the rigid hold of the door when he had tried to open it, he doubted that they would budge. He was trapped in his own office, on his own base. The idea that it could be the ever-growing resistance was first to enter his mind but was quickly dismissed as he turned and calmly walked back to his desk without a word. Slowly, calmly opening the top drawer as his eyes made a quick scan of the room, he retrieved the holster that held his sidearm before he returned his attention to his desk. Orange eyes dropped to the still spinning crest of The Administrator on his monitor and paused there when the rotation came to a stop as the eyes faced him.

    A sudden flicker of the screen, followed by warping of the image, came just as the lights in his office did the same. All of them pulsed, almost quivering before blinking out. Even the buttons on his desk and the face of the digital clock on the far wall grew dark. There was no sound to it, beyond the sudden silence that fell when the almost unheard hum of the lights went quiet. With his shades drawn in preparation for his pleasant afternoon of conversation and sex with a beautiful vixen, the darkness was almost complete before the screen flared to life again.

    The golden crest was gone, the color drained from it to leave a bone white mimic in its place which began a single slow rotation before it, too, came to a stop facing him. The red of what served for the eyes flared brighter, causing the fur on the back of his neck to stand on end as he drew the shining chrome weapon free to savor the familiar weight in his paw. The feeling of dread was one that he had not experienced in years of command and politics, but he welcomed it like an old friend. There was a reason he held the seat he did. There was a reason for every medal and ribbon on his chest, every bar on his collar, and every scar on his flesh. Even with the whispers of rumor, warnings that red eyes meant death, he had no intention of bowing down or cowering.

    A ghost of motion in the corner of his eyes was all he needed to level the gun on the face of one wall, his paws as steady now as they had been the last time he had marched the fields himself. Both eyes open down the sights and ears erect, he did a slow sweep of the room as he stepped out from behind his desk. Another ghost of motion came, causing him to swing his aim towards the door, where he found that the lights in the hall had almost been put out. Tension tightened his gut. The complete lack of sound even though he _knew_ he was seeing motion was disorienting. He had never known anything to move in such perfect silence that it couldn’t be heard in a soundless, dark room. Frustration and the inkling of fear that started to squeeze through his calm had him turning the weapon at the next motion. The flash and roar of the single shot he fired filled the room with light for less than a second, but it was enough for him to see… something. A shape, a figure. And when the black descended again, the glow of luminescent red eyes less than a foot from the barrel of his gun.

     _Red eyes. It was not only referring to the crest, then._

    “Yurei.”

    Even as the word escaped his lips in a bare whisper, he leveled the barrel between the eyes only to have them vanish as he pulled the trigger again. The grip of a paw on his wrist was strong, fast, and ruthless as it twisted the weapon from his grasp before he could react, sending it sliding across the carpet. He swung out with one paw, his claws curled in the hopes of drawing blood, but there was nothing there to receive the blow. The snarl was mostly one of surprise when the scruff of his neck was gripped, two paws holding him secure as the backs of his knees were kicked out. The hold on his scruff kept him upright when he crashed to his knees painfully, yelping sharply as his head was drawn back and his feet were pinned by the weight of his assassin. Any attempt to resist was lost when he saw the glimmer of the long knife slide towards his throat, felt the bite of pain when it slid into his neck just below his muzzle.

    Then there was a moment of stillness. He expected death, waited for the warm spill of blood to run through his fur and saturate his perfectly prepared uniform with crimson, but that moment didn’t come. The grip on the back of his neck was still firm as he stared at the ceiling without moving, finding it difficult to breathe. When he tried to speak, to question the one who now had him at their mercy, nothing more than a whine of air escaped him. It wasn’t until he felt the brush of a muzzle near the base of his ear that he felt real fear. The voice was soft, low and quiet, but cold enough to make the air around him take on an icy feel.

    “Your vocal cords have been severed. My blade is sharp, so you will not bleed until I decide it is time. Struggle, try to turn your head, and you will cut your own throat.”

    To test the truth of the words was to risk his own life, though he had little doubt in them. Panic tried to rise, but he ruthlessly shoved it back as he tried to think of some way to survive. No thoughts of the next day, or the next week. Just to survive the next minute would be a triumph, even if a painful one.

     _Why, Kyubi?_

    As if to answer his silent plea for answers, the voice spoke.

    “Your mistake was thinking that you were her equal when you were little more than a tool,” the voice whispered, the closeness of the mouth to his ear almost intimate. In a way, it was. There were few more intimate acts than ending the life of another.

    “She never wanted you.”

    The last words struck him in his final moment. There was a cold anger behind them but also a hint of what might have been a longing for confirmation. As if his killer as trying to assure himself of the truth behind them even as the blade slid smoothly and effortlessly through the flesh of his throat, slicing it open until the full blade was able to slide free of the gaping wound left behind.

    Blood choked him as his heart tried in vain to provide the blood flow his brain had suddenly been denied, quickening in his death as soupy crimson spilled through the fingers that clutched at the wound in vain. The weak gurgle was all he managed when he was freed, the weight lifted from his back and the paw releasing his scruff as his lungs filled with blood. He quickly stumbled to his feet, spinning around so suddenly the droplets of thick crimson life rained over the surface of his desk. The cold of the voice was replaced with a much deeper cold that crept quickly over his body, the dark of the room growing darker as bright orange eyes started to dim. General Valter struggled in vain to make their last vision the face of his assassin, his head turning with agonizing slowness as he took a few weak steps towards his desk. Yet even as he reached it, the paw placed on the surface to support himself leaving a bloody print, he was denied even that when he saw that the dark office was as empty as it had seemed moments before. Blackness started to cloud his vision - a blackness that in his vanity he had never prepared himself to meet - as he used the last of his strength to sketch in the surface of the desk in his own blood.

                         

    One of the most powerful mammals in Zootopia, General Nathanial Reinhart Valter, slumped forward over the desk as his final breath gurgled free from his muzzle, never knowing if his last attempt to be heard was successful.  
  


* * *

  
  


                    “We have vague reports of some sort of small scale attack at Maleperduis military base,” the perfectly white vixen said into her microphone, sharp blue eyes seeming to meet the eyes of every viewer watching the news cast. Well behind her in the distance the air-base loomed across the night sky in all its intimidating majesty, marred by the flashing of emergency lights and the barricades that had been thrown into place to keep the camera from getting too close. “Though our sources tell us that there was only one fatality, the base remains on high alert. There has been no statement from the ZAF or the Council on what took place.”

    Nick remembered it had not so long ago that he had considered looking up the arctic vixen for the sake of distracting himself from the idea of helping a bunny get herself killed. Having watched multiple reports and come into close enough contact with her to be questioned, he knew that it would have been a mistake. She was the sort who needed answers and was very good at finding them, something that was apparent in this single report. She was the only reporter on the scene, in what otherwise would have been a very hushed affair. Who her sources were, he could only guess, but the fact that she had been the first on scene for almost every major event of the last year did give him some clue. Whether or not it would become an issue in the future depended on how interested she was in Judy. Or him.

    Muting the TV when the report ended with a promise of more information as the story progressed, he leaned forward to look down at his phone for a long moment.

From the desk of The Administrator

_Your results are excellent Nicholas._

    He considered the message and the golden crest that marked the header of the message in silence before he slid his paw up to the Delete icon. Once he was sure that the message was gone, he returned his attention to the television.

  ** _Council Member, General Valter, believed dead._**

    He didn’t bother to unmute the TV as the vixen returned, this time interviewing a large brown wolf in a ZAF uniform with other reporters who had managed to arrive in time for what might be the only unofficial statement. Knowing that they would be given nothing of substance beyond what they already knew was a given, largely because Nick knew there would be no evidence for them to sort through. Nothing beyond a dead body and a lot of questions, anyway.

    His ears twitched slightly when the sound of a folder being slapped onto another folder from the bedroom was followed by the creak of bedsprings. She had not left the bedroom for most of the day, pouring over the files that Bogo had delivered as promised, rummaging through her notes, coming out once to grab a sandwich and talking on her phone a few times. Something told him that she had been avoiding him, an idea that was perfectly understandable given his behavior the day before. Her father had not annoyed him so much. The blatant dislike of foxes was just another part of being a fox. But hearing her mother even imply the belief that she would have to whore herself for his protection had increased passive disinterest to anger. Anger that led him to squash the idea that he would want sex as a form of payment before it was able to root itself firmly in her mind. A move that he had decided was necessary to ease the growing tension he had seen in her every time he was close to her.

                What he had not planned for had been the quick and obvious rise of arousal in her scent when he had broached the subject or his own sharp reaction to it. Maybe it was because bunnies lacked the heightened sense of smell, but the rush of that sweetly feminine scent had struck him like a very soft blow to the libido. When he had seen how she struggled not to react to how close they had been in that moment, the desire to taste even the slightest bit of her had been overwhelming. So overwhelming that he’d nipped her ear and almost failed to resist the desire to do more when the arch of her back and the hitch of her breath had told everything male about him that she wanted him.

    That had passed. A temporary insanity on both their parts, one that would not rise again so long as neither of them pressed the issue…

    Which might have been a simplification, as he felt a fresh jolt to his system when she walked out of the bedroom wearing her night shirt and no pants covering toned, gray legs. Not that she seemed to notice or even care as she walked into the kitchen area without a glance in his direction and pulled open the mini fridge. Taking a moment to blink away the surprise as she stood beside it before deciding on the carton of celery juice, he considered the way she moved as she set the carton on the counter. Her mind was clearly still in motion from the far off look in her eyes and the fact that she paused every few seconds to tick her ears as if running through a mental checklist. It was when she reached into the cabinet above her head for a glass that the night shirt slid up her hips. Not far enough for the fabric to pull over her tail and uncover the curves of her rear, but enough for him to catch the barest hint of white panties before she plucked a glass from the shelf and turned to pour.

    What concerned him was the fact that he had been hoping to see more and the fact that when she took the first drink she watched him from the corner of her eye.

     _She knows I’m watching. Wants me to see her. Teasing? A test? Curiosity?_

    “You could dress yourself,” he said, mimicking her words while keeping his tone lightly sarcastic. He didn’t take his eyes off her, however. Simply watched when she turned and leaned her hips back against the counter with the glass in her paw and her ears perked in his direction.

    “I could say the same for you. Again,” she commented, making a broad gesture to the fact that his shirt was unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up his arms even as he sat in the middle of her office space.

    “I can’t be expected to wear a suit all day waiting for you, Carrots,” he replied, his muzzle curving into a toothy smirk as he stood, tail swaying noticeably behind him as he walked towards the kitchenette and her. “Unless you would rather I do. In which case, I am going to insist that you put some pants on. Just to be fair.”

    She didn’t move away or even move to the side when he came closer to her. To her credit, simply scorched her rear over a bit on the counter when he reached for the mini-fridge himself. He would need more time to decide if she was being brave or if she had reached a point where she understood that he wasn’t going to eat her. Or ravish her. “If we’re going to be living and working here, I don’t see any reason we both can’t be comfortable,” she replied, giving a slight shrug when he pulled a bottle of soda from the fridge and turned to lean against the counter beside her. “Though I still don’t understand this open-door policy of yours. It’s not as though these walls are so thick that you wouldn’t hear me cry out.”

    “Hm,” was his only reply for a moment as he considered exactly how comfortable they would really be in such close quarters when she made unintentional comments like that. Then he turned his attention to the small flat screen on the wall. The scene playing across the screen was of multiple trucks, all carrying the markings of military Criminal Investigation Command, blew past the reporter blockade on their way into the base. “The tiger that tried to kill you on the streets was a decently skilled fighter. Probably military trained. He was also a blunt attempt by someone who believed that you would be an easy target. That is to say, they did not expect you to have proper protection if any at all. This is the result.”

    He motioned with one paw towards the TV, where her gaze lingered when she saw the words that still scrolled slowly by. He saw the frown form when she stepped away from the counter, leaving the glass behind as she walked over to pick up the remote. She looked vulnerable when she unmuted the report, wearing a light blue night shirt and a look of concerned concentration on her face.

     _“We have confirmation from military sources that Council Member Valter has been killed,”_ the vixen was saying, that slight edge of excitement in a tone that she tried to keep somber. _“We are not being given any further information at this time but as you can see from the CID vehicles that passed by only moments ago, it seems likely that foul play was involved.”_

    “Now, everyone knows you’re being protected,” he said, drawing her gaze to him when he took the remote and muted the report again. “It is hard to cry out when your muzzle is taped shut or they slide a knife across your throat before you see their face.”

    “Is that what happened there?” she asked and he was glad to see that she didn’t seem disturbed by his words so much as she was focused on the drifting subject.

    “I don’t know what happened there,” he admitted, even if he could harbor more than a few guesses. “But killing him with no other fatalities? That is why the doors stay open. My ears may not be as sharp as yours, but your average mammal will easily dismiss subtle sounds. Mental filters that some have been trained to understand and can use to mask their movement as background noise.”

    “Like this ‘Yurei?’” she asked, her ears quivering slightly as she glanced at the screen before she returned her eyes to him with a slight tip of her head. “Did they do this?”

    “Hm,” he grunted, scratching the side of his muzzle as he considered the idea before lifting his shoulders in a slow shrug. “I can’t say for certain because I don’t know who Yurei is. But given then rumors, it is possible.”

    “So, the door stays open,” she concluded for herself, keeping her eyes locked on his until he nodded. When she forced her attention away from him, she looked back at the screen. “Do you think that has anything to do with me? Do you think I caused it? You mentioned the tiger…”

    Her voice softened a bit, making it impossible not to have her aversion to killing come to mind. Though this time, her words were not an attempt to make him see her side of things. It was simply concern on her part. Concern that she was the cause of more death in the city. More death that had never been her intention. And while a part of him was tempted to remind her that being here was her choice, he remembered that he didn’t want to see the city itself drag her down until she was just one more broken product of The Foxes Den.

    “It may have something to do with you,” he replied, setting the remote down before he reached down to place one paw on her shoulder. When she looked up at him with haunted eyes, he was almost stunned by how small and soft she seemed without her suit and hard-nosed attitude. “We can’t be sure of that yet. But that doesn’t mean you caused it.”

    “If I had not come to Zootopia, possibly two might not be dead,” she amended, shaking her head slightly even if she didn’t move away. “I can’t ignore that.”

    “No, you can’t,” he agreed, dropping his paw away before his perception of her vulnerability made him want to pull her closer. “But if you had not come, Otterton would simply rot in prison. If you had not come back, the tiger who tried to kill you would have been sent to kill someone else. Weaselton wouldn’t have come to your door, but he would have harassed other mammals because that’s what he does.”

    She searched his face, maybe trying to decide if this was another one of his ‘You should run while you can’ speeches. “I’m the flame.”

    “And the moths are circling,” he agreed, walking to the counter to retrieve her glass of celery juice and his bottle. Once she accepted it when he returned, not taking her eyes off him, he continued, “You didn’t create this city or the rot that eats it from the inside out. Your presence has caused a change in focus for many. Caused them to expose themselves as they try to reach this new… Light among them.”

    “That’s all very dramatic,” she mumbled, a small smile crossing her muzzle as she raised her glass for a small sip to hide it.

    “Your first day in the city was nothing if not dramatic, Carrots,” he replied, opening his own drink and raising it slightly towards her. “Just be ready. The longer you stay, the darker corners you will expose. And the darker the corner, the bigger the moth.”

    Nick wondered a moment later, when the half-dressed bunny returned to her room and her work, if that wasn’t exactly why she had been invited to the city, to begin with.


	12. The Devil in The Details

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Things are moving again, though! Comments are welcome!
> 
>  
> 
> [Find the comic by TheWyvernsWeaver here!](http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-11-The-Devil-in-the-Detail-683974555)
> 
>  

    The interrogation room at the ZPD, also known as the I.I.U. for the sake of keeping the word ‘interrogation’ out of actual interrogations, was about as welcoming and comforting as the inside of a refrigerator with no food. It was a perfect square, with one large and obviously two-way mirror on one wall and cameras in two corners in opposite corners that kept a constant eye on both mammals that sat at the small metal table in the center of the much larger table. The chairs, designed to hang from the sides of the large table when not in use, were only lightly cushioned and being ram-rod straight backs ruined any idea of comfortable reclining. It was not a place intended to make anyone feel comfortable, or unwatched. Bland gray walls and air stale with the scent of multiple past visitors only added to the discomfort as an affront to the eyes.

    Judith Hopps was well familiar with rooms like this. She had been in more than a dozen different holding cells, I.I.U.s, and lawyer meeting rooms in her career, so as uncomfortable as it may have been for some, to her it was like stepping back into familiar territory. Almost like being in a courthouse with a witness on the stand, her suit crisp and flawless as she considered the male across the table with questions ordered in her mind, but without the judge or jury hanging on every question asked.

    “For the protection of all involved, this interview is being recorded and monitored by ZPD Chief Bogo in an adjoining room,” Judy said shortly after turning on the recorder that sat next to a folder on her side of the central table. The recorder was new. She had intended to use the carrot pen for some recording but now that she was aware of the message from her younger siblings, she couldn’t bring herself to record over it. It was as comforting in her paw as the presence of the fox standing a few steps behind her with his arms folded over his chest.

    “You were informed of your rights to have counsel present and have waived that right,” she continued as she settled her eyes on the weasel sitting across from her. His expression was one of bored annoyance, though she could clearly see the sharp glint of anger in his eyes when he looked at her. Which was becoming less frequent, as his attention was mostly focused on the fox standing on the corner of the larger table behind her. “I will state clearly for the record that this is not a criminal interview as no charges have been filed and no known crimes committed. This is a courteously extended to me by Chief Bogo in cooperation with the court in the appeal trial of Emmitt Otterton.”

    “Right, Cottontail,” the weasel cut in, a smirk crawling up his narrow muzzle as he leaned back, gnawing on the toothpick that seemed ever present between his teeth. His manor became relaxed, at ease with a smug expression that told her that he was convinced that he was above reproach. Or at the very least, believed he was untouchable. “Let’s get this over with, eh? I’m a very busy mammal and there are crimes aplenty being committed while we sit here playing pawsie over a pointless appeal.”

    “You consider it pointless to try to clear the name of a possibly innocent mammal, Officer Weaselton?” she asked, keeping her voice neutral and cool as she kept her gaze on him.

    “I consider it pointless to drag me into an interrogation room as if I did somethin’ wrong,” he shot back, kicking his feet out as he attempted to look relaxed by leaning back in the chair. She felt a quirk of amusement as the straight-backed chair did its job of keeping him mostly upright anyway, which also caused him to wince in pain. After a moment of obvious discomfort, he reconsidered and leaned forward with his arms crossed on the table top.

    “I said earlier that there are no charges, and no intent to file any,” she said, her gaze sharpening as he glanced at Nick out of the corner of his eyes. “Unless there is something you want to tell me.”

    “I ain’t got nothing for no lawyer,” he shot back, forcing her to relax her chuckle at his continue mastery of language. “Ask your questions. Let’s get this over with. I have a sick day to get back to.”

    “How _are_ your balls, Duke?”

    The hot glare that the weasel sent to Nick, as the source of the deadpanned question, might have melted anyone else. Nick was unmoved, and when she glanced back at him, she noted that he didn’t even seem amused. While his ears were erect and his tail relaxed and still behind him, she almost felt the waves of tension seeping into the room from his direction. When she turned her eyes back to Weaselton, she found that his were on her.

    Naked, brutal hatred. Anger was to be expected, perhaps embarrassment or wounded male pride. What she saw was violent and she realized that it was only because of where they were and the fact that Nick was there that prevented him from trying to take the violence out on her. While she was forced to wrinkle her nose to keep it from twitching uneasily, she kept her expression set on mild disdain and calm. To say that he was a hostile witness was something of an understatement, even if they weren’t in court.

    “This won’t take long,” she assured him, carefully avoiding false platitudes that she knew neither of them would appreciate. “I just need to you tell me what happened between 9:54 and 10:15 pm on the night Mrs. Otterton was murdered.”

    “What’s there to tell? It’s in the report,” he said, shrugging it off with obvious annoyance. “We received the call at 9:55, a report of a domestic dispute that turned violent.”

    “What were you doing at the time of the call?”

    “We were at a gas station in that area. I had ta take a quick leak, decided to slip inside for some fresh coffee,” he said, his gaze sharp as she took down notes. “Sweet little ermine was running the register – the kinda mammal a guy just wants to get home and keep hidden in bed for a while, you know – and I was about to seal the deal when the call came through. Had to run out without her number. Went in about 9:50 pm, so it only took about five minutes.”

    “All right,” she said, nodding for him to continue.

    “Luckily, the address was just around the corner. I figured it was nothing but a few middle-class Hare and Sealy having a spat, but my partner was on edge as soon as we arrived. Said she smelled blood, and a lot of it, so we decided to go in real careful like. The door was open, we each took a side and like we always do because I’m the smallest, I went in first.”

    “You went in first because you’re the smallest?” she questioned, one brow quirking as she tried to decipher how that fit into police regulations.

    “He’s a runt,” Nick cut it, smirking at Duke when another silence glare was sent in his direction. “Even for a weasel. He goes in first because he isn’t big enough to prevent Fangmeyer from having a clear shot.”

    “Yeah, that’s right,” Weaselton confirmed, with an acceptance of the explanation that seemed a little too easy for her. She noted it down as he continued. “So as soon as I’m in, the smell of blood is overwhelming. Like muggy, wet copper and some kinda meat. Which turned out to be otter, because as soon as we stepped around the corner into the living room, we saw what was happenin’. Disturbing, you know.”

    “Your first murder scene?” she asked, not really believing that. She didn’t believe he had been disturbed by what he had seen, either.

    “No, no. Of course not,” he snorted in reply, shrugging a bit as he leaned forward. “Just the whole scene. Harmless otter kneeling over the body of his wife, bloody knife in his paw. Real sad, truth told. Rocking back and forth, muttering something about how sorry he was and that everything would be all right. As if he believed at that point, with most of her blood soaked into the carpet already, that she was going to wake up of something. But, you how those crimes of passion work. Someone snaps and when all is said and done, they stay a little snapped. Can’t really comprehend what they’ve done or something like that. I dunno. I was just a little disturbing.”

    “What happened then?”

    “Well, we arrested him, obviously,” he said tritely, wrinkling his muzzle. “We saw him standing over the body, knife in paw. Didn’t resist much, aside from not wanting to let go of the missus. Just a little twitchy at the end. Nervous, you know, probably from being caught and insisting that he was innocent. He had so much blood on him that I got on my uniform just by cuffing him while Fangmeyer checked to make sure she was dead. Which she was, of course, though we found out later that she hadn’t been dead for long at all.

    “We’d already called for an EMT, because you know they can sometimes revive a mammal after a few minutes, but they pronounced her dead at the scene.” He released a windy sigh, exaggerated enough to make it obvious that his regret was an act. “After that, the case was taken over by Detectives Grizzolie and Higgins in homicide. Only took em a few days to have enough evidence to get a trial date set. What, with his paw prints all over the weapon, her blood all over him, the lack of forced entry, etcetera, etcetera, yadda yadda. And the rest is history. And also in the case files, so if you need anything else explained, I’m sure you can find it there.”

    It surprised her to find that she had no questions. None that wouldn’t have come across as accusatory, which was a road she wasn’t ready to travel down just yet. “No, I think that will cover it for now. Thank you for your cooperation, Officer Weaselton.”

    The slender male was up out of the chair quickly, his eyes flicking to the fox for a moment before he started to march towards the door without a word. She was as surprised as Weaselton when the paw clamped down on his shoulder, bringing him to a halt as Nick leaned in close and whispered something in his ear. She knew that it was far too soft for the microphones to pick up, because even she only manages to catch a few words.

    “…ever look at her that way again…”

    That was all she caught, but the implications, plus Weaselton’s wide eyes fear in reaction, was enough for her to get the gist of everything that was said before Nick patted him on the back in a ‘friendly’ swat that had him skittering towards the door and out without a backward glance.

    When green eyes that showed the spark of his anger for a fraction of a second turned back to her, she had to fight to keep the stirring in her belly from becoming a full flutter. Looking back at her noted, she considered them for an unnecessary moment before she spoke.

    “Chief, when you’re ready, we can move to a bigger room and walk to Officer Fangmeyer.”

    _________________________________________________________________________

    “I’m not sure if I can tell you anything more than what you’ve already heard, but I’ll help anyway I can.”

    The tigress was dressed in ZPD blues kept as neat as a pin, especially when compared to the somewhat lax condition of her partner’s. She sat up straighter than the back of the chair required, her paws folded on the table between her chest and the small table where Judy sat across from the larger mammal. The straight-backed, almost stiff pose wasn’t one of discomfort. Judy recognized it as an officer who believed in presenting themselves in a manner that represented the uniform she wore, which was even more apparent when she showed no negative reaction to the starting speech informing her of her rights. It left her wondering how such an officer ended up being partnered with someone like Weaselton.

    “Thank you. Your cooperation is appreciated,” she said, tilting her head in acknowledgment of the fact before she set her pen to the fresh page of the notepad. “I need you to tell me what happened between 9:45 and 10:15 pm on the night Mrs. Otterton was murdered.”

    Obviously, the question was not unexpected. Everyone in the city knew why she was there, so the tigress tilted her broad muzzle down for a moment as she considered for a long moment. Judy noted this down without looking at the pad, her eyes trained on the larger female with a sense of interest.

    “I think I received the call at around 9:55 pm,” she began, pausing when Judy raised her paw to stop her.

    “How do you know what time you received the call?”

    “Reports,” the tigress replied easily, her ear twitching slightly as a rumbling chuckle escaped into her otherwise huskily feminine voice. “Reports are tedious and require time stamps for everything. You learn to add ‘look at your watch constantly’ to your activities when on duty.”

    Judy nodded. She had already known the answer, and the easy way it was supplied was noted. “Go on.”

    “Weaselton was taking a bathroom break while I sat in the cruiser waiting,” she continued, her nose wrinkling slightly as she replayed the memory. “His bathroom breaks always take him a while, so I learned to wait it out. Always pick at him about it, though, and have been steering him towards using his lunch break instead of random stops. But that was turning out to be as effective as asking him to use scent-mask during our shift.”

    “So it’s not unusual for him to take long bathroom breaks,” Judy asked, and after a nod was given, the fact was noted. “How long was this one?”

    “I don’t know exactly. Fifteen minutes? Maybe a little more? When the call came in, he walked out looking annoyed. Said there was a ‘hot ermine’ manning the counter of the store but that she must have been ‘a lesbian’ because she wasn’t interested in him. I figured that was the reason for the delay,” she added after a moment’s thought, dark, feline eyes flicking over her shoulder to glance at Nick for a moment. Judy noted a subtle twitch of her nose, a briefly distracted expression before those eyes returned to her.

    “Domestic violence calls are touchy,” she continued, her eyes lowering to the two paws on the table top as she leaned over them a bit. This put her muzzle very close to the bunny, who met haunted green eyes evenly. “You never really know what you’re going to find. Two people arguing and an unhappy neighbor looking for peace and quiet; one partner with a busted muzzle or claw marked on the cheek; a body. In this case, unfortunately, it was a body. I smelled the blood before we reached the front door, which was open. Weaselton insisted on going in first, chances being that there was no real danger in the house.”

    “He insisted on going in first?”

    “Well, offered might be a better word,” she corrected, frowning a bit as she considered it. “It must have been because of the size of the house? Smaller mammals, I had to crouch down and squeeze in. I normally go first, use my size as an intimidation factor to discourage an aggressive response. Annoyed me a little, because he went ahead with his tranq out and disappeared into the living room before I could follow. When I caught up, he was already making the arrest, snapping at me to check the victim’s vitals while dragging Mr. Otterton away from the body. I… Don’t think there was anything that could have been done, even if the EMT had already been in the room. She was still warm when I checked for a pulse but there was a lot of blood. The coroner confirmed later that the stab wound had punctured the heart.”

    There was a note of sadness in her voice, though it wasn’t overt. The sort of sadness Judy might have expected from a cop who had been on the force for years, one had already seen death more than once and understood the reality of it. Nothing exaggerated, no dramatics, no obvious signs of distress beyond the light twitch of her ears and the tone of her voice.

    “So, you didn’t actually see where Mr. Otterton standing over the body when you entered the room?”

    “I…” she began, then paused for a moment as a frown curved her lips down. Oddly, in Judy’s mind, the tigress glanced at Nick again. The expression was somewhat hard to read, and at first, it almost seemed like she was looking for permission to continue. That was quickly tamped down to looking for assurance, perhaps even comfort of a sort.

    “It’s all right, Merilyn,” Nick said, his voice a few octaves softer than she had ever heard it when he spoke to anyone other than her. “We’re here about the appeal, not you and your partner. This isn’t an interrogation.”

    “He’s right,” Judy inserted, even as she wondered again how well the tigress knew this fox. “I am only here to build a case to defend Otterton.”

    “I didn’t actually see him standing over her body, or see him holding the knife,” she continued, seeming appeased for the moment as she returned to her straight-back, professional stance. “It was what Weaselton saw, though. And it wasn’t hard to put the picture together in my head with what I did see. A blood covered otter, obviously going into shock and his dead wife on the floor. Once forensics confirmed that his pawprints were on the murder weapon, putting that in the report just seemed like common sense.”

    “Thank you, Officer,” Judy said, tucking the carrot pen into the inner pocket of her jacket before she reached out with one paw. When the paw was very carefully taken by the massive mammal, almost blocking her view of the tigress, she smiled warmly. “You’ve been very helpful.”

__________________________________________________________________________

    “So what do you think?” Nick asked, leaning back in the driver’s seat with his head tilted towards her curiously. “Are they hiding something?”

    “I don’t know yet,” she said, staring down at the closed notepad for a long moment in silence. “There is a lot to go over, compare to the official report filed by both officers before I can decide if anything about their stories is really off. I do know that Weaselton’s tone was off. “

    “Off in what way?”

    “I’m a lawyer,” she said, setting the pad aside as she met his eyes. The fact that he was no longer as intent on wearing the sunglasses unless they were out in the open or in direct sunlight allowed her to see the mild curiosity in the bright green. “I’ve prepped witnesses and had witnesses prepped against me. They are told to expect certain questions, told how to answer them. Sometimes even given a script to follow. He was following one.”

    “How could you tell?” he asked, reaching down to start the car and pull away from the curb, his ear turned towards her to show that he was still paying attention.

    “Outside of when I asked him a question, his story wasn’t doubtful. There was no hesitation,” she explained, seeing the little frown form at the corner of his muzzle. “Most mammals have trouble remembering what happened in certain events a week ago, much less months. And even if it was a memorable experience, the need to recall events causes hesitancy, which Officer Fangmeyer showed. But Weaselton didn’t. He was following a script. Or at the very least, expected to be questioned at some point and planned what he would say.”

    “Is that unusual?”

    “Not entirely, no. And it’s not something that would catch my attention, normally. Police officers often prepare to give oral accounts of events at murder scenes. But they are partners, and their stories were not synced,” she explained, shaking her head slightly. “Given the nature and record of the two officers, I am surprised they are partners at all. Do you think Bogo put Fangmeyer with Weaselton to - I don’t know - keep him on a leash?”

    “Seems like something he would do,” he supplied easily, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “And Fangmeyer is a good cop. An honest mammal. And it’s doubtful that Weaselton would consider the idea that he could toss his weight around with her because she weighs considerably more.”

    “Yes, she does,” she said, a soft chuckle escaping her muzzle as the idea of a tiny weasel trying to get tough with a tiger forty times his weight.

    Realizing that they were not heading back to the office despite the setting sun, she looked around at the city that passed them by. The buildings were getting smaller as they moved further away from Savanna Central and Downtown, and at first, she thought that they were moving into a bad part of town. When she realized that the buildings were not worn down so much as they were painted darker, drab colors, she realized what where they were headed. The color change was meant for the comfort of the the mammals lingering on the edge of the Nocturnal District, which was where they were headed now. Curious about her surroundings, the question of where they were going lingered on the tip of her tongue as she watched nocturnal mammals start to mill about. While many of them were just as common in the daylight hours outside of the District, such as the fox beside her, there were some oddities. Like the armor plated pangolin plod along the streets in a business suit.

    “Where are we going?” she asked at last, turning her eyes to Nick.

    “We haven’t had a chance to eat more than what the ZPD calls coffee since breakfast,” he replied, turning down a street un inventively called Night Drive. “I know a little place, serves all types. Live music. Dim lighting and mammals there keep to their own business. Unless you would rather head back to the office for freeze dried carrots and gruel.”

    Shuddering at the idea of rubbery, flavorless vegetables, she nodded. Good music, and intimate setting, privacy. The flavor of the tension between them in the office the day and night before had been a surprise. And it remained so on pretty much every level, as she realized more and more that the tension – the attraction - wasn’t fading. But she managed a grin, keeping her ears perked towards him as the gentle flutter started in her belly again. “Nick, are you asking me out to dinner?”

    “Do you want to be asked out to dinner?” he said, one dark brow quirked upward as he turned to meet her gaze with one eye. His expression was hard to read. It almost always was, but she gave him a little nod of her head in reply. “All right then. Would you like to go to dinner, Miss Hopps?”

    “I would love to.”


	13. Prima Sonata

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comic in collaboration with TheWyvernsWeaver, Kulkum and Skelleton-Guys-andragdolls can be found [Here](http://kulkum.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-12-1-Prima-Sonata-687433723)
> 
> Thanks for those who continue to read and support this insane project. :D

    While not entirely sure what she’d expected when the offer of dinner somewhere outside of the office came, the building he brought her to hadn’t been on the top of Judy’s list of guesses. In fact, she was fairly certain she had never seen anything like it back home. From the outside, it looked like little more than a small brick building with an uninteresting brown door; a door that was topped by a surprisingly ugly yellow sign in the shape of a martini glass. It was what she would have expected from an unknown dive bar, the mental image of which was almost enough to have her asking if there was somewhere more grounded he could take her. But as she was coming to accept with everything that surrounded her guardian, the rough exterior was just that. It was what was inside that had her captivated.

    The sharply inclined stairs had given way to the warm glow of soft yellow light, the sort that wouldn’t be offensive to the eyes of its mainly nocturnal patrons. As the narrow stairway might have suggested, the layout was compressed. Yet somehow the spacing of the tables away from the stocked bar at the center kept things from feeling cramped. What charmed her almost instantly was the melody that drifted around her. Now clearly able to hear the piano, and remembering that Nick had mentioned live music, her ears perked to follow the sound until her eyes found the source. The raccoon, whose body and face mask was a lighter shade than she had ever seen on the species, played with a light smile on his muzzle as his fingers moved over the keys of the old piano. From the looks of him, she doubted he was even out of his teens yet. Unable to help herself, she found herself drawn towards the lovely notes.

    When jade green eyes raised to her as she approached, the surprise that crossed his face reminded her that bunnies were almost entirely unseen in Zootopia. To his credit, he never missed a key when his gaze darted behind her to the fox who had followed close behind. The smile that bloomed across his muzzle was one of recognition and welcome. Instead of speaking, the young raccoon simply nodded towards the tip jar on top of the piano he played. The amused grin on Nick’s face when she glanced back at him told her that he was familiar with the wordless greeting. So much so that he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

    Something about it was incredibly interesting to her. The normality of it, the proof that this fox did exist outside of his still well-kept secrets. It was a combination of multiple things, really. The wallet itself was obviously not cheap, though, in all honesty, she couldn’t have guessed if it was a cheap knockoff of something expensive or if it was an actual quality piece. His paws were quick to flip open the wallet and, as she watched this perfectly natural act with rapt fascination, he flipped through the surprisingly thick stack of bills inside before coming up with a one hundred Buck note. When he folded it quickly, raising his paw to drop it into the tip jar, the lack of surprise on the pianist’s face had a barrage of curious questions racing through her. He tapped the piano-top with one claw in response to the nod of appreciation from the pianist and turned, placing his paw against the small of her back to lead her towards a corner booth, causing those very same questions to run off with the sudden thrill of the touch.

    The reality of it didn’t fade, nor was it lost on her that his paw lingered far longer than normal. It wasn’t his normal ‘you need to move this way to stay safe’ guidance. It was intimate in a way that had him drawing her closer as they moved until they reached the booth. It wasn’t until she felt the slide of his fingers up the center of her spine, a sadly muffled sensation through the layers of her suit, that she allowed a little shiver to race through her. He was such a distraction that she wasn’t even aware that they had been followed to the booth until the large sea otter waddled up to the table with a beaming smile on his heavily whiskered, blunt muzzle.

    “Nick! Glad to have you back here so soon, m’lad,” he said in a thick brogue accent, the large, long-bodied mammal all but bobbing in place as he set some items on the table without being asked. The first to draw her attention was the familiar sight of a shot glass filled with deep amber liquid, which a quick twitch of her nose told her was scotch. Beside that he set a glass of ice water for Nick and one for her before he turned small, curious eyes to her with a menu held out in one webbed paw. “And you’ve a friend with you. A rather rare one, at that.”

    “She is,” Nick said, his voice even but friendly when she reached out to take the menu with a politely grateful smile on her muzzle. “Judy Hopps, this is Lochlann, the owner of this fine establishment.”

    “Fine establishment,” came the snort of reply, a grin that raised his whiskers high on his fur-bearded face given in reply as he popped a pad and pen out of his apron pocket. “You mean a hole in the wall. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Judy. I’ve read the reports of why you’re here in Zootopia. I hope this fox has been keeping a close eye on you?”

    “Yes,” she said, keeping her voice as even as possible even though a glance at the fox had heat rising along the back of her neck. “No one has managed to lay a paw on me so far.”

    “Sad times, when a bunny is attacked just for being in the city,” the otter commented, shaking his head with a sage sort of annoyance crossing his features. “But I know you’re not here to talk to this old otter. What can I get the two of you?”

    The menu was, as expected from a place as small as this one, not exactly extensive, though Nick had been right: the variety of dishes was obviously meant to cater to all types of mammals. From meals of fish and appetizers of deep fried pickles. It wasn’t until her eyes settled on the vegetarian Shepard’s Potato Pie that she realized how hungry she was. A realization that came with a growl of her stomach that had her trying to hide behind the menu for a second when both predators grinned at her. Once the orders were placed, with Nick seeming to know exactly what he wanted in his order of ‘Sea Bass and Chips’, the otter did his waddle towards the back room.

    “You come here often?” she asked, one brow raised as she took up the glass of water to take a sip.

    “I wasn’t expecting a pick-up line so early in the evening, Miss Hopps,” he quipped in reply, almost causing her to sputter into the water glass. Sending the chuckling fox a quick glare as she set the glass down, she leaned back into the comfortably cushioned seat. Because it was sized for a mammal comparable to a fox, she didn’t need to go out of her way to keep her eyes on him even if she had to make sure that the water glass was placed so it didn’t obstruct her view. “But yes. I am a regular here.”

    When no further explanation seemed to be forthcoming, even as she watched him expectantly, she found herself wondering if she was expected to ask. And moreover, found herself wondering if this was a date in his mind. When even thinking like that made her feel young and stupid, she raised one paw to her forehead to rub it for a moment before she waved the same paw in a lost gesture. “Nick, what is this?”

    “A restaurant,” he replied, reaching down to pick up the shot glass and raise it to his nose. She focused on him as he did so. She could see his eyes darken and dilate for a moment, what she thought had to be thirst clear there for a moment, before he focused themon her again and set the glass back onto the table.

    “You know what I mean,” she murmured, curious all over again. The reaction to the liquor, his obstinate refusal to drink it perplexed her. But even more intense was her need to understand why she was suddenly given this window into the real life of a male that she knew absolutely nothing about. “Why are we here? And if you say ‘to eat,’ I am going to throw this water in your face.”

    There was a long moment of silence that followed that. The loaded sort of silence that in court told her that the witness was trying to come up with the right answer when the questions had gone off script. He didn’t seem particularly disturbed, didn’t seem uneasy as emerald green moved over her face with a sort of curious indecision.

    “We should go see one of my friends after dinner,” he said easily, folding his paws on the table top and leaning in a bit as he lowered his voice. “If you need information, he’s on it. I’d bet he knows something about the Otterton case that you can’t find anywhere else in Zootopia.”

    “Don’t try to change the subject, Nick,” she frowned, while at the same time tucking away the offer of help for later. It wasn’t lost on her that it was the first time he had offered any sort of help aside from protection, and while she felt it might be important, she also knew that he offered it when he did specifically to avoid answering her question.

    “All right,” he murmured, rolling his eyes away from her to glance around the restaurant quickly as he feigned a tie adjustment to hide the fact. Being mostly empty aside from the still drifting melody of the piano beyond the bar, his expression hardened for a moment when he looked back at her. “I didn’t mean to bite you.”

    “Oh,” she managed, knowing instantly what he was talking about. Mostly because it caused a little spark of warmth down in her belly as the memory came to life in her mind. A memory so vivid that she found her gaze drifting to his muzzle. His mouth. Dark lips. Lips that currently hid the teeth that had grazed her flesh and made her legs feel like jelly. “Uh. It’s okay? But that still doesn’t answer my question.”

    “Doesn’t it?” he asked, one brow arching as he leaned a little further over the table. Her nose twitched as his did and she resisted the urge to lean closer herself, the impulse to do so surprising her enough to have her reaching for her water glass again. “I never intended to touch you at all, much less put my mouth on you. Your reaction was a little more eager than I expected, Carrots. After all, the entire point of that was to show you that I had no interest in you sexually, to remove that thought from our relationship.”

    “Well, that worked out well,” she laughed, not at all pleased with the note of panic in the sound. She covered her eyes with one paw for a moment just to block out the sight of him long enough for her to think, only to have that effort destroyed when she found him watching her like she was certain a predator of old would watch prey they intended to devour. The fact that she had never reacted so strongly to the advances of a male was a fact that was not lost on her at all. “It wasn’t like I could help it.”

    “Yes, and I didn’t intend to bite you,” he said again, leaning back in his seat without allowing his eyes to leave her. “I have spent years teaching myself to avoid dangerous temptations and it took less than a day for you to… tempt me.”

    “You were tempted?” she asked weakly, her ears dropping back when he raised one dark eyebrow at the question.

    “I suppose you would have doubts about that,” he murmured, his tongue lightly clicking against the top of his mouth as he considered her for a long moment. “I turned towards the windows for a reason. As lightly dressed as I was, the answer to that would have been obvious if we’d been facing each other. Is that why you were walking around in your panties last night? To see if you could get another rise out of me?”

    “I was curious,” she admitted, refusing to allow herself to hide behind the water glass at his admission. She felt very out of her element, which came as no surprise. She was talking to a  _fox_ about the attraction between them as if it were something a bunny had talked about at any point in history. “Well?”

    “Well what?” he asked, making it very clear with the innocent expression on his face that he knew exactly what she was asking.

    “Did walking around in my underwear get another ‘rise’ out of you?” she asked, rolling her eyes slightly as an unavoidable grin grew on her muzzle. As awkward as the subject should have been, and was, she almost felt like they were having a normal conversation. His expressions were more animated, his ears shifting position more freely, his eyes open in ways she had only glimpsed before. Hints of what she had seen in rare moments were now slowly unfolding in front of her.

    “Do you want me to bite you again?” he countered, heat racing through her in more ways than one as a grin slowly spread across his muzzle. That view of teeth had her focusing on them for a long moment, a sight that had her resisting the urge to lick suddenly dry lips.

    “Do you want me to keep walking around in my underwear?” she countered herself, refusing to let him get the better of her. At least here, in the restaurant, she could keep up with the banter. What made her nervous, and what had her belly twitching slightly when the realization dawned that they were openly flirting with each other, was wondering what would happen when they were alone in the office again.

    “If I answer yes, which would be the truth,” he began, making her mouth drop open just a bit at the blithe ease with which he answered, “then we are presented with an interesting problem.”

    “Is this where you tell me that a relationship between a bodyguard and his client must remain professional?” she questioned, one paw reaching out to catch a drop of sweat rolling down the side of her water glass. Just to give her paws something else to do.

    “That would be an appropriate cliché,” he snorted lightly, leaning forward again with a flick of one ear as he lowered his voice. “Though not entirely accurate. I am not a bodyguard by trade, for one. And secondly, in about ninety-nine percent of fiction where that scenario plays out, they resist with all their might, only to surrender to their passion for each other in the end.”

    “This isn’t fiction,” she muttered, her ears positively burning at the way he had worded that. Mostly because it was entirely too accurate. “But since you put it that way, what is the problem in your mind?”

    “Foxes and bunnies don’t exactly get along,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact in the statement. “The current state of the city is unmistakable evidence of that.”

    “So, you’re going to trade one cliché for another?” she asked, one brow raising when his grin returned so quickly, so handsomely, that her heart knocked painfully. “The star-crossed lovers from different worlds, struggling to be together against all odds?”

    “Lovers, hm?” he murmured, the low tone of his voice causing her nose to twitch rapidly for a moment as excitement boarding on panic almost had her backtracking. “We could run through a list of very obvious reasons that we should stop pressing the issue.”

    “We could,” she said and, because she suddenly felt very small having to look over the edge of the table to really meet his eyes, adjusted her legs so she could stand on her knees in the booth. Then she surprised herself when she added. “But I would rather not. We both know there is something here. But it’s not like I could find anyone else to protect me. And I don’t like to run away.”

    “Yes, you’ve proven that multiple times,” he said lightly, his gaze shifting from her for a moment to pick up the shot glass and raise it to his muzzle. “What are you suggesting, Miss Hopps?”

    “We could go back to the office and bang out a quick one,” she said, her tone full of humor and nervous energy at the same time.

    Catching him completely off guard was a breath of fresh air for her, one that she savored when he almost bobbled the shot glass. The sudden burst of laughter that had him throwing his head back had her staring at him with something akin to awe for a long moment before a heated blush bloomed all over her body. The sound was incredible, somehow. The sound of laughter for most was a normal, everyday thing. Until now, she had wondered if he was capable of it but now that it rolled around her, she found herself feeling foolishly aroused by it. By him in general. All of him. Maybe it was normal, something that she had wondered about from the moment he had pinned her to the counter and nipped her ear. The feeling of danger about him, the fact that he had fought for her, defended her and watched over her from the moment she’d set foot in the city. Then there was the orange fur, the long narrow muzzle, his teeth, paws large enough to swallow her waist, creamy fur that trailed down his chest and belly and beyond. There was something beautiful about him, and the fact that he was a fox did absolutely nothing to change the way she knew he was affecting her.

    It wasn’t until the laughter died to a soft chuckle that his eyes returned to her, filled with humor and something else. Something that might have been the result of his flared nostrils as he took in the scent of her. Realizing where her thoughts had led her, and his attention to the resulting change in her scent had her dropping down on her rear again and reaching for the glass of water. She drank deep, trying in vain to let the cold liquid drown the warmth centered in her belly as she avoided his gaze.

    “Funny joke. But not avoiding this doesn’t mean we should run headlong into it, either,” he said after a few moments, the now almost soothing tone in his voice catching and returning her eyes to him. “It is dangerous. Exploring it further might not be wise. But your being in this city isn’t wise, either. Wisdom is helpful, but it’s not the answer to everything.”

    “So, we should just,” she began, waving her paw slightly as she tried to gather the right words to express it without adding to a conversation that already had her hot and embarrassed all at once, “see where it goes without the typical avoidance maneuvers?”

    “That’s one way to put it,” he replied, his face softening for a moment before their attention was distracted by the arrival of their food.

    They were silent as the meal was set in front of them, causing her eyes to widen at the size of the pie that was placed in front of her. The scent of it, however, drew another eager gurgle from her belly as she beamed a smile at the otter. After giving a friendly thank you, Nick used both paws to turn his plate in front of him so the fish was closest to him. Then, he continued as if the interruption hadn’t happened just as she shoved a mouthful of blissfully seasoned potatoes into her mouth.

    “In our situation, avoiding the obvious would be a surefire way to make it happen, anyway. It would just delay and aggravate.”

    She mulled over his words as she continued to eat, allowing her gaze to drift to him as he cut into the thick fish filet on his place. The silence lengthened, not uncomfortably, as she enjoyed the excellent food and did exactly as he suggested. She considered their attraction, rather than avoiding it. It wasn’t until he took up the glass of water for a sip that she was distracted by another thought.

    “Nick, why don’t you ever drink what you pour?”

    “I’m an alcoholic,” he replied, the answer so simply said and stunning to her that she stopped with the fork halfway to her mouth to stare at him in shock.

    “An alcoholic?” she asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice as she set the fork down into the pie and looked quickly at the shot glass beside his plate. “Shouldn’t you be avoiding that, then?”

    “Yes,” he said, setting his own fork down as he looked down at the glass. Now she recognized the look in his eyes when he looked at the drink. The thirst that had him longing for that sip. Instead, he forked up another bite of fish and took it while keeping his eyes level on hers. “But that doesn’t solve the problem in my mind. Like expecting the law to stop people from saying ‘cute’. It is a crutch. Removing something from your life to avoid temptation only means you will be more vulnerable when exposed. Rather than subject myself to sudden weakness, I exposed myself to the desire constantly until I learned to control it.”

    “Until it got easier?”

    “No. It never really gets easier,” he said, shaking his head slowly as he reached down to pick up the glass. “I still try to rationalize it. That voice in my head, telling me that one drink won’t hurt. I am forced to remind myself that it makes me weak. Vulnerable.”

    “So, you have no weaknesses?” she asked, her brow wrinkling with concern when he raised the glass and sniffed at it for a moment. The question drew his gaze, and the focus in those eyes when he looked at her with a hunger that seemed to drown out even his desire for the drink froze her in place.

    “I didn’t.”

 

 


	14. Glacial Surge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of the readers and followers of the comic.
> 
> The comic can, as always, be found on TheWyvernsWeaver's DA page [HERE](http://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/gallery/60192132/SUNDERANCE)
> 
>  

    “The DMV?”

    Judy really hadn’t intended the question to come out with an amused lilt but she was in a mood that wouldn’t allow her to maintain an entirely professional attitude. At least, not as she walked beside the fox as he led her away from the car. The feeling of uncertainty that trickled through her mind was mostly because of how confused the rest of her emotions seemed to be. She couldn’t decide between abject terror that tempted her nose to twitch every time she looked at him and the pleasant giddiness that set her stomach into excited spins now and then. Their dinner conversation had been the groundwork for something more than what they were now, of that she had no doubt.

    Mutual attraction. Glancing at him now as he led her around to the side of the building, she couldn’t deny her own. His expression had returned to the serious, blank and unreadable one that he wore most of the time. He was… A fox. A narrow muzzle, short but sharp ears, angular features, long bodied, lean, ruddy orange fur, large paws tipped with blunt but dangerous claws, and sharp teeth that she saw every time he spoke. He was very un-bunny like. There was nothing about him that looked soft or gentle, though that perception may have been colored by the fact that she’d watched him dismantle a fully grown tiger. He was predatory, every inch of him and he appealed to every inch of her. The dinner conversation had opened doors that she had, if she was honest with herself, not tried all that hard to keep closed. Walking around in front of him with nothing on but a night shirt and underwear? Of course, he’d noticed that. He didn’t need to be attracted to notice that.

     _Next time, Judith, just try throwing yourself at his feet naked. That might be less obvious._

    The thought had her forcing her attention on the red door in front of her, letting her mind focus on how odd it was that they were approaching a government building from the side keep her mind focused on something other than him. She glanced around with a frown when she realized that, much like the parking lot out front, there was no obvious sign of life this close to midnight. “I hope you don’t think we’re breaking in,” she stated, leveling a look at him. She flushed furiously when green eyes, luminous in the dark, turned to her and a smirk curved his muzzle for a moment.

    “No, we’re not going to break in,” he replied, raising one paw to knock on the door twice, pause, knock twice, a longer pause, and then knock three times. This caused her to raise an eyebrow and turned her attention back to the door of what should have been an empty building.

    “Nick, I wasn’t expecting you,” said a voice that seemed to come out of nowhere. A quick glance around told her that there were no visible speakers on the wall, the door or above them. This had her wrinkling her brow when the voice continued in a clear but obviously modulated tone. “And you’ve brought Mrs. Hopps with you. This should be interesting. Stand as you are, please.”

    Blinking as she kept her eyes on Nick for answers, she glanced down at the hand he placed on her shoulder briefly before she felt her stomach lurch. This time, it wasn’t the male that caused it. Rather, it was the way the square of sidewalk she stood on started to drop into the world around it. It was impossible to contain her surprise and trepidation as they were literally swallowed by what looked like a very narrow elevator shaft. When they were fully underground, something slid across the opening to cover it with hardly a sound beyond the light mechanical hum she detected around her. Her ears dropped back as she looked to the fox for answers, only to have him place one finger to the tip of his muzzle to quiet her. Holding her tongue as the ride came to a stop at the bottom of the shaft who knew how far underground, she stared down the short hallway directly in front of them. Tiny cameras lined the ceiling leading down the hallway, each seeming to be trained in a different direction to cover every angle at least twice. The thought of paranoid bunker dwellers, who believed that the system was out to get them at every turn, was the first thought that crossed her mind, making her dread the lunatic that they might meet.

    Then the black door at the end of the hallway swung open. Or crept open, very slowly. Almost painfully slowly as Nick guided her forward, only to have her stop dead in her tracks when she saw the brown and white  _sloth_  on the other side. Dressed as she might expect someone who truly worked for the DMV to dress, in a green button up shirt and striped tie with khaki pants, she could only continue to stare as she started to move again when the paw on her shoulder urged her forward.

    “Wait. He’s a sloth?” she whispered, wincing at the volume of her voice in the tiny hallway.

    “The best information broker in Zootopia,” he said by way of avoiding her question, his muzzle curved into a grin to the sloth as they reached the door. “Anything you need, he’s on it. Judy, meet Flash.”

    “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The name struck her as so odd for a member of the slowest species in Zootopia that she hesitated before finishing. “Uh, Flash.”

    “Nice to… Meet you… Too.”

    The sloth looked so incredibly amiable as he slowly stepped to the side, at a pace that made her want to tap her foot on the ground as they waited, that she almost wondered if they were talking to the right mammal for what she could only assume was black market information. But, by the time he extended his arm, the long claws of his paw outstretched to invite them in, she was already ready to climb back up the shaft and break her way out if need be. Nick, however, calmly guided her into the room. Or lair, as she quickly came to think of it as she looked around in awe.

    It had her completely forgetting the sloth as he started the tedious process of closing the door and walking across the room. Monitors covered one wall entirely, though what was being broadcast on them was nothing more than local news stations and what she could have sword was a cooking show for sloths. On another wall was a series of devices that she couldn’t even begin to guess at. Dials and speakers; small screens with various readings that confounded her ability to describe; graphs, longer strings of numbers. Lists of names. The wall furthest from the door they had come through had another door flanked by two massive computers, which even she could tell likely ran all of the electronics to gather and hold all of the data an information broker would need to stay in business. It was all very surreal, very spy thriller or sci-fi movie, which made since when she put her mind to it. No better place to hide than right under a government building that most mammals avoided like the plague unless required to go there.

    Her attention was drawn back to Flash as he sat in a chair within a circular desk in the center of the room. The desk itself was made of glass or something similar and her eyes widened in wonder when, as one long claw tapped the surface, the desk came alive with some sort of complex user interface. The rest might well have been for show, she realized. Out simply outdated when the glass top of the desk lit up much like the screen of her phone, only holding more transparency. Nick guided her forward as she took it all in, her gaze following the claw on the desktop as it dragged a box with various symbols she didn’t even recognize in front of the sloth. The claw tapped one such symbol.

    “I’m glad to see that you’re impressed, Mrs. Hopps,” came the modulated voice again, this time clearly recognizable as Flash’s computerized cadence. It still caused her to jump as the benignly smiling mammal’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “It is not every day that I am given a chance to show off my base of operations. Though if Nick trusts you, I am inclined to do the same.”

    “How?” she asked as she stepped forward, not even sure where she was directing the question. From what she’d seen, he had only pushed a single symbol!

    “A long and complex explanation,” the voice admitted, surprising her with the note of humor in the tone.

    “Right,” she said, realizing that she was being incredibly rude by asking how anything in the room worked when she’d only just met the mammal. Her ears popped upright and her eyes followed in fascination as the claw moved to another symbol on the table top, a screen appearing with numerous files that were coded in the same symbols. She realized that it was either scrambled or he had invented his own language to make more difficult for hackers to decrypt. Though how someone could hack a system like this, she wasn’t sure. “We’re here about the Emmitt Otterton case, Flash. Nick said that you might be able to help?”

    “There may be something to find that hasn’t been found,” he said, causing her heart to race just a bit as she stepped closer to the desk. “As long as you understand that my customers don’t always like what they find.”

    “I understand,” she said quietly, glancing at Nick with an uneasy twitch of her nose. He gave her a small nod, which she returned before she looked at the sloth. “I am only interested in the truth. What do you need to get started?”

    With a slow motion of the claw that seemed to constantly touch the screen, an icon popped to life on the edge of the table closest to her. It only took one glance to realize that it was a microphone icon, one which started to glow faintly to show that it was active. “Information,” he replied simply, one slow blink the only motion she could see aside from his claw’s faint tapping.

    “Everything you have on the case. The date of the murder, times of every relevant event, addresses, names, charges filed, murder weapon. We will start with that. Afterward, if it’s needed, the stories of those involved.”

    Swallowing as she reached into the inner pocket of her jacket to extract her note pad, she considered how odd all of this was for a moment. Was it even legal? Maybe not, probably not, but there was a mammal’s freedom on the line and people wanted her dead. She had to know the truth. So, flipping to the first page, she started to feed information into the system one item at a time. When she realized that the box with the file system had started to move, she understood that everything she was saying was being filtered and sorted. It was a fascinating process. Unlike search engines she’d used in the past, there was no obvious search box. No system to show her what was being searched where. It simply happened and happened very quickly from the looks of the coded files filling and vanishing from the screen with everything she added to the filter.

    “It will take a few minutes for the system to finish sorting the information,” he said, and though his eyes were on the screen now. “The mammals involved in this case concern me and that forces me to ask, before I give over this amount of information if you really want to risk your life further?”

    “Did Nick tell you to ask me that?” she groused, the frown that formed on her muzzle directed at the fox who gave her a perfectly innocent shake of his head.

    “Ah, I see that subject has already been settled,” he stated, his gaze moving between the two of them slowly before he directed his eyes onto Judy. “Then I hope the information I have can help, at least.”

    “Hey, Flash?” Nick said suddenly, cutting through the few seconds of uncomfortable silence that followed and drawing her gaze to his smirking muzzle. “Wanna hear a joke?”

    When the sloth removed his claw from the screen and turned his eyes to the fox, she was further surprised when he spoke with his real voice rather than the modulated tone of the room.

    “Sure.”

    “What does a buffalo tell his son when he leaves for a long trip?” the fox quipped, the jovial, clearly playful tone in his voice and animated hand motion causing her to forget what they were there for momentarily.

    “I don’t… know,” came the slow reply, the snail’s, or sloth’s, pace of his words making Judy’s eye twitch slightly when he continued. “What does… A buffalo say… To his… Son when… He leaves… For a long… Trip?”

    “Bison!” Nick finished, obviously pleased with the horrible joke when he released a short laugh and nudged her. She raised her paw to her forehead, suppressing a little groan and releasing a sigh as she turned her eyes back to the sloth. She watched, dumbstruck, as the placidly amiable face slowly, very slowly, spread into a wide smile. The laugh that followed, like everything else about the sloth, came slowly and lazily and she found it oddly endearing to hear it.

    The desktop gave a single beep, at which point the slow laughter died and the long claw returned to the interface. “Motion outside,” the voice of the room said, sounding annoyed rather than concerned. The screens the covered one wall flickered and switched to a single external view of the DMV from across the street. She frowned as the camera zoomed in on the motion, her heart lurching into her throat when she saw three wolves dressed all in black tactical gear literally sniffing around the car. “You have guests.”

    “We can assume they don’t know about this place or they wouldn’t be sniffing around the car,” Nick said, his voice even and his eye cool as he watched them follow the scent towards the main building. “I doubt they would be able to get in even if they did.”

    “The easiest way to force entry here is tearing down the structure above, then using heavy machinery to dig down,” Flash confirmed, the voice sounding mildly amused and even a bit proud. “And that would draw attention they obviously don’t want. They won’t leave the car unwatched even if they do leave, though.”

    “Probably following us for most of the day,” Nick amended, turning his eyes to Judy. Her nose twitched uneasily when she saw the expression and the intensity in his eyes. The same intensity she had seen the moment before he’d turned and faced down a tiger in the streets. “They will have to be dealt with, but only after we finish here. It would be better if we make a quick exit of the scene once they’re dealt with.”

    “Can’t we just call the ZPD?” she asked, frowning as she turned her gaze from him to the monitors. “Avoid them all together?”

    “It won’t solve the problem. The moment they catch the scent of cops, they’ll ghost,” he explained as the wolves sniffed around the door, the largest of the three, a grey who seemed to act as the alpha of the little pack of killers, drawing a silenced sidearm from his vest as he raised his eyes to look around cautiously. Two quick motions of his paws and the other two wolves split to circle the building. “And if they ghost, they will try again and I’ll lose the advantage of knowing where they are beforehand.”

    “Can you,” she began, nibbling on her lower lip as she watched the three large predators on the hunt. A hunt for  _her._ “Disable them? Without getting hurt?”

    “Probably, if they stay split up like they are now,” he said without hesitation, causing relief to flood her. She felt the real, potent desire to hug him for a moment before he continued, “And you stay down here until it’s finished.”

    “But,” she started to protest, only to pause when he turned sharp green eyes on her and raised a paw.

    “I told you before, if it comes down to a choice between your life and theirs, I will choose yours. If you stay down here, the chances of  _their_ survival increase dramatically.”

    For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she should take the chance of him getting hurt to save the lives of the wolves. But for all intents, the fox facing her now didn’t seem concerned with the pack of larger mammals beyond minor annoyance at their presence. And if they were taken alive, maybe there would be answers as to who was trying to kill her in the first place. Their gear made it unlikely that it was a random act of hatred for bunnies, after all.

    Not killing them was also the right thing to do.

    “I’ll stay down here. Just,” she muttered, her tone and the drop of her ears making it clear that she was reluctant. Pride tried to tell her that she could help him, somehow. Emotion wanted her to grab her cell phone, call the ZPD, and order him to leave. Logic and her limited experience told her that she couldn’t help him and would easily hinder him and that he was right. They would simply show up again in the near future, possibly catching them off guard which would make them much more dangerous. “Be careful.”

    “Careful is for mammals who don’t have crazy bunny lawyers to look after,” he said, a small grin curving the edges of his muzzle even as he watched the wolves on the screen circling the building. They showed no signs of giving up, having already disabled the alarm system so one of them could enter the building proper.

    “The search is finished,” the modulated voice said, drawing her gaze from him to the sloth and then to the interface where multiple screens popped up. She was surprised to see that they were all videos, most of them easily recognizable as surveillance footage of the gas station where Officers Weaselton and Fangmeyer had stopped before receiving the call. One showed an alley that she didn’t recognize and couldn’t place as important to the case yet, another showed a repeated clip of Otterton entering his car at an unidentified parking lot, pulling out and driving away. The time stamp put the date and time as twenty minutes before the murder. Various file names that she didn’t recognize and had never been given access to were displayed as she looked over the information in a state of minor shock, the last of which was an audio file named ‘Dbel’. As she watched, the file names and videos began to scramble until they were unreadable, making her frown up at Flash.

    “I will copy the videos to a flash card that can be played on your phone, encrypted. Instructions on how to decrypt them will be forwarded in twenty-four hours. A precaution,” he explained when she narrowed her eyes at his seemingly unaffected expression. “For both our protection. All other files will be sent via E-mail. Instructions for accessing those, Nick has.”

    When Nick nodded in response and started to move towards the door opposite the one they had used to enter this lair, she drew herself up as fear started to tighten her gut again. “Nick…”

    “They’re no tiger, Fluff,” he cut her off, opening the door and turning to face them both. “Flash, no in or out until I give the clear. She doesn’t leave this room.”

    She opened her mouth to protest but found herself facing a closed door that wouldn’t listen to her further concerns. Scowling deeply, anger rising to mingle with uneasy fear, she glanced at Flash to see him finishing a nod of consent.

    “Strange,” he said, his eyes shifting just a bit so they came rest on her, “these attempts to silence you over a murder appeal.”

    “Yes,” she said, distractedly glancing to the screens again as she raised a paw to nibble on her thumb claw. “Bunnies are not welcome in Zootopia, but this is a little extreme.”

    “Extreme for a murder investigation, yes,” he commented, catching her attention long enough to draw her eyes from the circling wolves. “But you seem to have a friend. Rare for her to descend from on high to mingle with the commoners.”

    “The Administrator?”

    “I find it particularly interesting that she has taken such an interest in you, Miss Hopps,” he said, moving his claw slowly over the control panel until the golden image of the Administrator’s Crest appeared. “Something is happening in the government of Zootopia. An imbalance that may, in some way, be related to the Otterton case.”

    “You don’t know?” she said, a little smirk touching her muzzle as she tilted her head towards him.

    “I am an information broker, Miss Hopps,” he replied, his surprisingly soft eyes sparkling with humor as she met them. “If I knew everything, I would  _be_ The Administrator. But when the case is done, you should stay, enjoy the sights. Zootopia is a beautiful city. Even in its darkest corners.”

     _“The longer you stay, the darker corners you will expose. And the darker the corner, the bigger the moth.”_

    Had he heard her conversation with Nick? Or had Nick been quoting something he had heard before? She stared at him, her nose twitching lightly as she considered the words before she saw that his mouth was slowly turning into a frown as he watched the video feed on the wall. She turned her eyes to the wall of screens in hope of watching Nick’s progress and was frozen in horror at the scene before her.

    Bodies. The three wolves were lying at the rear of the building, scattered about randomly as if they had died fighting. One wolf, a black one who’s open eyes were facing the camera, had obviously had his throat slashed open while another almost looked as if he had been folded in half backward. The alpha of the three was motionless and there was no doubt in her mind that he was as dead as the others. For an irrational moment, she wondered how and why Nick had killed them so quickly but just as quickly dismissed the idea as foolish. He had just closed the door. There was no possible way he could have reached ground level, killed three wolves and then vanished from view.

    “Flash?” she struggled to get out, having to swallow the bile that threatened to rise in her throat before she could continue. “What happened?”

    “An unknown player,” came the simple reply, though, from the otherwise silent and motionless state of the sloth, she could guess that he was as surprised as she was.

    On the screens, Nick slipped out of the rear door of the DMV near the bodies. Where she might have expected shock, the slightly blurred face of the fox only creased slightly as he frowned and stood where he was. Already wide amethyst eyes followed his paw as it slipped behind his back, pulling the crested baton from its hiding place in the neat line of his suit as he calmly walked towards the body of the alpha wolf.

    “You have to let me out,” she demanded, already heading towards the door only to stop when she heard a lock engage. “We don’t know who’s out there!”

    “Exactly why I won’t let you out,” he replied, his gaze not moving from the screens where Nick now knelt beside the alpha with his gaze wandering the surrounding area. “I am not sure I fear who did this more than I’ll fear Nick if you end up dead.”

    Frustration and near panic had her pointlessly yanking twice on the handle of the door before she ground her teeth as she marched back to the table. Brooding, chewing on her lower lip, she watched Nick move from one body to the next with no chance in results before he drew himself to his feet. When he backed towards the building again, baton in hand, she almost felt relief before she saw motion in the shadows. Nick, seeming to have seen something himself, paused his retreat and stood his ground with his eyes trained on the same patch of shadow.  
  
    "Nick..."

    Suddenly, a crackle of static was followed by the blurring of the camera’s vision. For a moment, even as the blur became so intense that she couldn’t even make out Nick as more than an orange and black blob, she almost believed that she’d seen two glowing red eyes in those shadows. Then, she winced at the high-pitched sound of feedback before the screens were filled with nothing but snowy static.

 


	15. Kitsunetsuki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update. Do enjoy! Thank you for all of your patience. My other stories will be updating soon, I promise! School and such.
> 
> In the meantime...  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> [View the comic here! (three parts)](https://kulkum.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-14-1-Kitsunetsuki-701109271)

    The display was nothing if not theatrical. He had to admit, the sense of danger - of lethality - in air tainted by the coppery stink of fresh blood was somewhat enhanced when twin embers appeared from the shadows. There was something tangible to the shadows, however. Something real watching him as impassive green eyes returned the gaze curiously. While he expected the image and the bodies would have caused most others to panic, the tingle that ran down his spine as he stood his ground was one of disquiet and tension. Preparation. Fear was a survival instinct, after all. He could already sense the way the world around him sharpened and focused as adrenaline surged through his blood.

    His nostrils flared and his nose gave a few curious twitches as he took a few slow steps away from the door leading back into the DMV. Even if this new arrival entered the building, he had no doubt that Flash had not been exaggerating about the difficulties anyone wishing to enter his domain would face. Still, he didn’t move towards the eyes. Just… walked along the wall to see if they would follow him. Were they dead? Lifeless? No. They tracked him even as he stopped. The glow. A trick of the light? In the dim light, he had no doubt that his own eyes were luminous, so that was not out of the question. Though the steady glow of the ghostly red didn’t remind him of any mammal he knew, though it also explained a few things.

    “In the very few stories about you,” he said, shattering a silence left by three dead predators as he came to a stop and tapped his baton against his thigh in an almost idle motion, “I find it funny that they never mention the eyes.”

    He didn’t even have time to think about how fast the motion was before the shadow itself moved like a living thing and swooped in on him. Reflex, years of intense training, and a touch of luck raised his paw in a snap to deflect something. Something solid to the touch, and moving with enough force to cause the bone in his forearm to ache even with what could have been called a perfect deflection. When he lashed out with a quick swipe of the baton, the shadow did not jump back or dodge. It simply seemed to shrink by a few inches, allowing the blow to harmless pass through the inky dark without finding solid purchase.

    He smelled scent mask.

     _One._

    Instantly on full guard, he brought his elbow back after missing with the baton, his eyes followed the shadow as what was clearly an arm blocked the blow. He instantly dropped the elbow, drawing his opponent towards him as he shoved forward with his upper body until they made chest-to-chest contact.

    He heard an almost imperceptible grunt.

     _Two._

    Another blow came from his right in a blur of black, blocked by a rise of his shoulder as he pressed forward to unbalance his opponent. The shuffle of two pairs of feet on the asphalt was halted when one raised, giving him half a second of forward momentum before the shadow attempted to sweep his leg.

    He felt a whisper of breath ruffle his cheek fur.

     _Three._

    He planted his feet, absorbing the blow only to find that the swift shadow had not been following his forward motion. Seeing his mistake too late, a sharp yank on his tie had him stumbling forward and into a quick, sharp pain sliced through his cheek.

    He saw a shimmer of light reflect from off a blade from within the shadow.

    Snapping away and taking a few steps back when the shadow didn’t follow, he rolled his neck slowly as he watched the dark thing in front of him. Fast. Incredibly fast. There was no need for him to raise his paw to his cheek as the scent of his own warm blood reached his nose even over the stink of dead wolf. It had been as close to a perfect strike as he could imagine and he doubted very much he would be breathing if whoever this was had intended to kill him. A lucky break for him, and a lesson in not underestimating the unknown again.

    “I don’t believe in ghosts, you know,” he said, green eyes sharpening as he ran the very short confrontation through his mind again. Reaching behind his back with his baton, he noticed a subtle shift in the shadow. A little… Tension forming for a fraction of a second before allowing his now empty paw to drop to his side again. A scent, breath, reaction to physical contact, and now tension in the face of a perceived threat. “I also expected you to be taller.”

    This time he moved first, closing the short distance between them as he dropped to all fours and pivoted quickly to lash out with his tail and his leg at the same moment. Both were easily avoided but the shadow was forced to drop back in a quick jump to do so.

     _One._

    This allowed him to carry the momentum of his spin around as he came up on the pads of his feet, his now free paw emerging from his jacket with this handgun swinging around with the motion. It was a terribly sloppy move, the sort one only saw in action films where the star power drove home half-ass fighting skills. The sort of thing that looked amazing visually, but was so blindly obvious that any fool could see it coming. The shadow was no fool and did exactly what Nick might have done in the same situation. Rather than dodge again, it moved into and past the barrel of the gun for what he had no doubt would be a far more vicious blow than the last little scratch on the cheek.

     _Two._

    Only, before that blow came, the shadow slammed full force into the baton that he had dropped from the sleeve of his jacket during the sweep. There was a brutal thump and  _crack_ as he drove the tip into the baton center mass into the shadow, followed by a satisfyingly loud whoosh as the air was driven out of very solid lungs.

     _Three._

    A blinding pain and light dazed him for a second when a foot connected with the underside of his muzzle, snapping it to the side and forcing him to roll away. Satisfaction was still his, however, watching the shadow stumble back a few steps unsteadily, clutching at the spot he had struck. Then the flickering began. Sort of like watching a television screen short out. The shadow cracked as various lines of static formed across the surface, flickered for a moment before wavering as if trying to decide what to do next.

    Then the figure within the shadows, who was almost visible now, reached up and slapped at the chest of his suit. Then she shadows flickered off for good, leaving the fox facing what might have been the very last thing he had expected.

    “I’ll be honest,” he said as he drew himself to his feet, sliding the gun back into its shoulder holster while watching the figure with cautious and curious eyes, “I did not expect Yurei to be a bunny.”

    The bunny - because that was clearly what stood in front of him now - was taller than any bunny he could remember seeing in his limited experience. Rather than the round, fluffy build of your average bunny, this one was lean. His body seemed to be made of edges rather than curves, but that was in part an illusion made real by the angular design of the fur tight suit he wore. Exceptionally long ears for a bunny, which made him wonder if this rabbit was from The Common Wealth at all, gave him an unusual and dangerous feel. That and the long blade he held in one paw, which Nick could easily connect to the mild sting that lingered on one cheek.

    “She calls me Jack.”

    Soft spoken, not entirely because the voice came from behind the deep purple scarf that he wore wrapped around his and over his muzzle. Nick said nothing in reply as the rabbit reached up to pull the scarf away from his muzzle, though he knew exactly what 'she' he was referring to. Cold blue met calm green in silence, considering each other for a long moment before he moved the baton behind his back, this time sliding it into its sheath as he started to wander the lot. His eyes never left the bunny.

    “So, what do you want here, Jack?” he said at length, taking the time to smooth and adjust the lines of his suit with a few quick tugs.

    “How did you know about the hologram?” came the reply, the voice delivering it as pointed as the blade in his paw.

    “You mean, why didn’t I think you were some ghost or demon?” He gave a short shrug in reply as he stopped next to one of the dead wolves and the SMG that was still strapped to the wolf’s shoulder. “I don’t believe in them. I smelled scent mask when you first came close, felt you breathing. You were solid enough.”

    “I wasn’t talking about that. It’s not meant to make me seem like a ghost,” was the reply, one that Nick noted came a with an undertone of impatience under the overwhelming calm. “I meant: how did you know where to hit me to damage it?”

    “Oh, I didn’t,” he admitted, his tail flicking behind him lightly as he studied the prey in front of him with rapt curiosity. He couldn’t see any damage to the suit itself, which meant there was likely some sort of underlying technology in the fabric itself. He could only assume that he must have hit something vital. “Blind luck? I didn’t even know personal holograms existed to that extent, though it explains how you are in Zootopia.”

    “They don’t,” was the only reply, one that was followed by a few beats of silence before Nick decided it was his turn to speak again.

    “Why did Neveen send you?”

    Even saying the name caused a little clench in his chest, though it was nothing unfamiliar to him. He had not spoken the name aloud in years now, even if it ran through his mind every day, as did the face of the vixen attached to it. The play of a frown over Jack’s muzzle was not a surprise to him. While he hadn’t spoken to her, he knew very well that she had gone to great length to bury that name.

    “It would be in everyone’s best interest if you referred to her as The Administrator,” he said, his long ears twitching and radaring for a moment towards a distant sound. “Or Kyubi, if you’re feeling bold.”

    “Oh, right,” Nick said with no attempt at all to hide the sarcasm in his voice, placing one paw over his chest as a look of snarky irritation crossed his muzzle. “I would never endanger her pretend identity. So, why did  _Neveen_ send you?”

    Rather than annoyance or anger, he noted that the eyes of the bunny went from cold to ice as his ears dropped back for a moment. He felt another little tingle down his spine, the sort of thing that warned of danger, but he expected if this ‘Jack’ had been sent to kill him, then they would not be having a conversation. The ice remained, however, when the reply came. “She wishes to extend an invitation. She wants a meeting, as she worded it, to discuss why you have returned to help the lawyer. She wants to meet at the Apex of the Tower in two days.”

    “I never went anywhere,” he muttered under his breath, reaching up to rub one paw down the length of his muzzle without taking his eyes off the rabbit. Eyes that narrowed suddenly when an idea struck that made him sick to his stomach. “Wait. She never expected anyone to help Judy, did she? So, what? She expected her to come to Zootopia to die?”

    “Of course not,” was the instant reply, one which held the first note of amusement from the male. “She had every intention of protecting Miss Hopps.”

    A little more than a tickle this time. A full shiver ran down his spine at the tone and the implication that came with it. If any individual mammal in the city would have been capable of protecting her, he had no doubt that it would have been someone with a reputation like Yurei. Having been given a small taste of those skills himself, he had no doubt that it very easily could have been done. An open display of sovereign protection wouldn’t have worked, after all. It would have to be done in secret, in silence, and with the last mammal anyone would expect. Another bunny would have been perfect. He had to fight to desire to grind his teeth as he placed his paws on his hips.

    “So, was this some sort of test, then?” he asked, finding himself wishing he had punched the baton through the annoying rabbit’s chest. “You were the one who was supposed to protect her, so you wanted to see how the competition measured up?”

    “Competition?” The tone remained amused even as the bunny drew himself up a bit and started to move for the first time since his hologram had been disabled. Nick felt that the bunny moved with the easy confidence of someone who didn’t care that he had been exposed. At the same time, the fact that he still held the knife told an entirely different story. “You think highly of yourself, given where that cut could have landed.”

    “Oh, so you do have some emotion tucked away in that suit,” Nick said, moving parallel to the bunny now as they started to circle each other. “Tell me how that sarcasm works for you while you nurse those broken ribs. And you still haven’t answered my question.”

    The amused shimmer in blue eyes dimmed a fraction, an almost petty feeling of victory allowing him to grin viciously when the rabbit reached up to rub almost unconsciously at his ribs as they circled each other.

    “Yes,” came the reply, which at this point was no surprise to him. They both came to a stop not far from each other, the fox looking down at the bunny while he tried to decide which one of them was the predator and which one was prey. “Though it would have made little difference in the long-term outcome. It is clear at this point that Miss. Hopps trusts you to protect her…”

    “Trust might be a strong word,” he muttered under his breath.

    “…and even though I am, shall we say, closer to home for her,” Jack continued as if there had been no interruption, “it is doubtful that she would appreciate an offer of a new protector since you have proven effective enough.”

    “I somehow feel like I’ve just been insulted,” Nick said, his expression shifting to a bored sort of annoyance for a moment before he shrugged slightly. “If I were to believe you, this does clear up a few questions I have had for her.”

    “If you accept the invitation, I am sure you will have all the answers you need.”

    The bunny now took a few steps away, though his eyes never left those of the fox. Finally, he turned the long knife in his paw and moved to sheathe it, allowing Nick his first real chance to have a look at it. The metal was dark gray, marked with inconsistent waves that seemed to run the length of the blade. An old metal working technique. Durable, expensive, and despite the deceptively simple hilt clearly not a simple throw-away weapon.

    “All the answers I need, but not all of the answers I want, I presume,” he replied as he committed the apparent length and craftsmanship to memory.

    “Isn’t that the way of these things?”

    “Yes, I suppose it is,” he said, resigned to the reality of it. A meeting with her was a step, to be sure. A step that he had not expected, one that he was not even sure he deserved, but it was one that he would take. If nothing else, it would allow him to spell out his intentions to protect Judy. When his eyes returned to the bunny, he watched with a slight tilt in his head as the scarf was pulled up over his muzzle again. An interesting thing, he considered, because it would do little to hide the fact that everything about the male screamed ‘bunny.’ “Did she send the tiger?”

    “There was no need for her to send anyone,” he replied, slim shoulder rising and falling in a simple motion of disinterest. “A bunny in Zootopia. Someone was bound to try something.”

    “At which point you would have swooped in to save the day,” Nick added, his tail twitching slightly as he glanced towards the still open door leading into the DMV. “What if she had refused to accept your help?”

    “I don’t see why it matters,” the rabbit said, his tone taking on a slight edge that amused Nick to no end. Obviously, he was not used to long conversations. “But I was to convince her by any means at my disposal.”

    “Including seduction?” he said, feeling his amusement rise further when the face of the other male darkened slightly before he gave a curt nod. The sharpness of the motion, as well as the information, had a light chuckle escaping him, a sound which had blue eyes focusing on him again.

    “That amuses you?”

    “Only slightly,” he admitted, then allowed a wide, long-toothed grin to spread over his muzzle the likes of which caused even this bunny’s eyes to dart down to the exposed canines. “I just happen to know that you’re not her type.”

* * *

 

    She had almost made a bumbling fool of herself by rushing into his arms when she’d seen him alive and well again. It had been his cool and on edge demeanor that had stopped her, and the fact that he seemed distant and thoughtful even as he’d taken her back to the car through the side entrance they’d originally entered from. In some ways, even now sitting in the car on their way back to the office, she felt the desire to make a bumbling fool of herself by admitting how afraid she’d been. The silence in the bunker had felt like an eternity, even as she’d filled it with everything from pleas and demands to bribes and threats in her attempt to get Flash to let her go help him. He hadn’t budged, of course. Not until the screens had suddenly cleared to show Nick standing alone with the bodies of the wolves, almost exactly how he’d been standing before picture had been lost.

    She expected to be angry later, but after he had used the panel by the door to tell Flash to send her, she had been so relieved to see him unhurt that anger simply hadn’t come. Now it was starting to slip through the cracks, however. Her fear, his silence, and the fact that three mammals had been killed by someone he hadn’t even identified…

    “It was Yurei,” he said, startling her with the sudden break in the silence that seemed to read her thoughts. “He’s a bunny. His name is Jack. He was sent by the Administrator to invite me to meet with her.”

    The sudden rush of information left her stunned to silence for a full five seconds before she found her voice. “Okay. Wait, what?” she corrected herself, turning in her seat to face him with a look that mix disbelief and simple shock. “Everything you just said is insane, Nick.”

    “The fact that he is a bunny named Jack is slightly insane,” he admitted, sparing her a sidelong glance as he took a turn.

    “And being invited to see the Administrator in person isn’t?” she questioned, finding herself not at all happy with how well he seemed to be taking all of it. Of course, she had also seen him kill an assassin, order around a crazy weasel, and walk among three dead wolves as if those things were normal so she wasn’t entirely sure why she was surprised.

    “Do you want to come?”

    “To meet the Administrator?” She was quite sure that the open-mouthed shock on her face wasn’t entirely visible. “Was I invited?”

    “I was invited,” he said easily, flashing a little grin in her direction that made her heart quicken. “I go where you go, and visa versa. So unless you want to spend a day in Flash’s bunker, you’re free to join me. If she won’t let you in, we’ll just find something else to do.”

    Long ears lifted as a smile spread quickly over her muzzle. “Yes,” she said, unable to keep the delight out of her voice as she settled back into her seat. “I would like that.”

    The now comfortable silence that stretched between them was filled with thoughts of questions, ideas, their recent encounter, and…

    “Nick,” she began, glancing over to look at the cut on the side of his face. “if he was sent to deliver a message, why are you hurt?”

    “I wouldn’t exactly call this hurt, Carrots,” he replied, his tone echoing amusement. When her expression didn’t change to match his amusement, he released a slow sigh. “We’ll call it a... Challenge. A test of skill.”

    “So Yurei is an assassin,” she muttered under her breath, frowning slightly at the idea that the Administrator employed killers for hire.

             

    “No, nothing so simple,” he replied, drawing her gaze as his expression hardened along with his tone. “He’s much more dangerous.”


	16. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a collaboration with Kulkum (writer) TheWyvernsWeaver(main artist) Akiric (Storyboard sketches) MonoFlax (last chapter shading) and Robert Fiddler (storyboard sketches.)
> 
>  
> 
> [See the Comic here!](https://kulkum.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-15-1-Reflection-706772891)  
> 

    Silence had followed them into the office, though she had expected that after the fox had taken a full ten minutes checking every room, every corner, and every shadow. She understood. Even with the surprising revelations that he had shared with her about Yurei, he had also reminded her that someone had sent a squad of killers to do what the tiger had failed in. The idea of questioning him never crossed her mind and she stayed just inside the doorway, her eyes following him as he moved from one side of the room to the next so quietly that the only sound she could detect was that of her own heartbeat in her ears. Thorough wasn’t the word Judy would have chosen as he checked under every surface, in every openable object, and if the fact that she saw his tail close to the ground through the small bit of the bedroom she could see, under the bed. She was pretty sure he even checked between the mattress and under the toilet seat, which might have made her smile if her own mind wasn’t racing through the possibilities.

    Another bunny in Zootopia, one who worked directly for the Administrator as… What? Her personal assassin? Bodyguard? ‘Fixer’? She was pretty sure some mammals would have used that term for the one who cleans up all the messes, by any means. This fit to what Nick had told her, in some ways, and it made her nervous. Nervous that the Administrator employed someone like that at all, even if this Jack didn’t seem to be one of the mammals sent to kill her.

    And she really hoped that her parents never, ever learned that she was thinking about who may or may not have been sent to murder her.

    Lavender eyes followed the fox when he came back into the room, peeling his jacket off quickly and tossing it over the chair by the desk. Her gaze wandered from his face, down to the twin guns that were holstered under his arms. How had she never really seen them, even if she had been sure that he carried them? Had she been so distracted by the case that she had never even seen him take his jacket off? This seemed to be the case. When he turned into the bathroom, bending over the sink to splash water over his muzzle and face, she also saw the baton sheathed at the small of his back as a part of the same leather rig. She had never seen any of it, maybe because he hadn’t wanted her to see it, and it made her wonder what else she had missed or what else he kept hidden from view.

    A blush warmed her ears, causing them to drop when she realized that he was looking at her in the bathroom mirror as he ran a towel slowly over his face.

    “It’s clear, Carrots,” he said lowly, though he didn’t take his eyes off her when she took a deep breath, nodded, and stepped further into the room.

    Seeing him wince a bit and glance down at the towel, she spotted the blood at the same moment that he did. The cut on his cheek was slowly oozing blood again, though beyond the splash of water and towel, he seemed intent on ignoring it when he exited the bathroom without a word. He also didn’t seem inclined to remove the harness when he walked past her, lifting a single blind to check the car outside before turning to drop himself into the chair. When his head dropped back and his eyes closed, it only took her a moment to decide that the relaxed appearance was only on the surface. She could see the tension in the way his jaw worked and the fact that his paw was not as still as it could have been on his knee.

    Stepping past him and going into the bathroom to get the small first aid box – one that she instantly decided they needed to replace with something more robust – out of the cabinet, she returned to him with her ears lifted again. Not sure why she felt so hesitant all of a sudden in the face of the fox, she released a quick breath that was mostly annoyance with herself as she set the kit onto the desktop beside him. “You need to let me look at that cut.”

    “We’ll have to be more careful from now on,” he said, his voice as neutral as the set of his ears and the expression on his face when he raised his head to look at her.

    His eyes were cool. Or he tried to keep them cool when there was something brewing just under the surface, she decided. Something she probably would have missed only two days ago. What it was, she couldn’t really say, but it made a shiver slide down her spine with such intensity that heat crawled under her fur and her tail twitched restlessly. The fact that his gaze traveled down her body as she dug through the kit, coming to rest on that tail and the hips that they were attached to, caused her mind to go blank for a moment. A moment that left her standing there with gauze in one paw and tiny alcohol packets in the other before she shook it off and turned to face him fully.

    “I can’t image how we could be more careful,” she said, keeping her voice steady by using every ounce of courtroom showmanship she knew to level it when she looked up at him. She opened one of the alcohol packs after determining that the cut was longer than it was deep, reaching up to carefully clean the soft orange fur as she tried her best to keep her tone light and conversational. “You’re already with me twenty-four hours a day.”

    “Talk like that, and a fox might think it’s a hardship, Carrots,” he said, unmoving and unflinching when she dapped at the edges of the cut with a wordless smirk cast in his direction. “I mean more careful in everything, at the very least until I speak with The Administrator. Jack being there means one of three things: she knew where we were and he was waiting, he had been following us for some time, or that she had foreknowledge of the team sent to kill us. None of those sit well with me.”

    “Why does it bother you?” she asked, using her fingers to part the fur around the wound as she tried to decide if the fur needed to be cut. She couldn’t apply a bandage if the fur remained, but it didn’t look too serious. “I mean, killer bunnies aside, I knew that she was watching me. It goes with the territory of being an invited guest of someone as powerful as she is.”

    “Because if she knew where we were, it means that she expected us to see Flash at some point and knows who Flash really is,” he added, his eyes never leaving her as she set the now soiled pad aside and reached for sterile cloth. “If it was him following us, it means that I failed to notice a tail for the entire time you’ve been here. And if she knew someone was going to try for you tonight, that means she may know who is responsible. None of those things are ideal.”

    “Nothing about the situation is ideal,” she said softly, not really noticing the soothing notes in her tone as she cleaned the rest of the blood from his cheek. “But you did say he was wearing some sort of holographic device. If he was following us, he was probably using it to avoid being seen at all. As unnerving as that is, it wouldn’t be surprising.”

    “He was supposed to be the one to protect you when you reached the city,” he said, surprising her fingers into stillness as she raised her wide eyes to his. Predatory green eyes that were no longer as controlled, that cool burning away from the surface as his paw came up to close around her wrist lightly. “She knew someone would try for you at some point and so she sent him to watch you. To gain your trust, so you would accept him as your guard while in the city. I’m not sure what her end game was with that, but I do know that seduction was on his list of acceptable methods.”

    “Seduction?” she said, feeling her stomach drop for a moment when she realized what he’d just told her. Her eyes narrowed and sharpened on him when she realized that he still held her wrist. She tugged on it, found herself held in place half by that paw and half by the way he looked at her. “So, what? Do the bodyguards of this city run around seducing lawyers to keep them in line?”

    “Oh, Judy,” he murmured, surprising her as a soft, pleased grin climbed his muzzle. “I’ve already told you, I’m not a bodyguard by trade. And I have anything but control of you.”

    She jumped when she felt his paw flick at the front of her jack to unbutton it, causing it to fall open just as that same paw slipped into it. Her entire body shook with unexpected… Everything when she felt his paw slide around her waist, drawing her just a little closer as he brought the paw he held to his muzzle. Her knees weakened when she felt the warmth of his breath against her palm, followed by the lightest of touches. His tongue, she realized, when her desire to pull away melted into the same puddle of desire as the accusation itself.

    “I didn’t mean to say that,” she whispered, a little dazed and unresisting as he drew her closer until she stood between his knees. The scent of fox and flowers, an oddly delicious scent that was both obviously predator and yet so amazingly tempting to her. “I know you…”

    Cut off when he leaned closer to her, her eyes widening when his muzzle pressed against her cheek. The quicksilver pulse of lust centered in her belly made her feel like she was about to catch fire, made worse and better by the draw of his tongue along her cheek. The light rasp of that wide, warm muscle ruffled her fur and she was certain fried brain cells by the thousands as her ability to think was scattered. Some part of her expected him to stop with that one lick. Maybe it was simply affection? A show of appreciation? One that now had the large, dark paw under her jacket tugging her ever closer before it slid down and spread over the curve of her hip. She couldn’t find any reason to stop him. The bunny couldn’t find even an inch of desire to do so, either. Not when his hand paused at her thigh, obviously exploring as his fingers passed featherlight caresses along the line of her suit pants for a moment before moving back up to mold against the curve of her lower back.

    She found herself draw up to him, felt the soft rumble of his growl in his chest as his teeth found her ear. It was the second time she’d felt his teeth, and without the fear of their first encounter, the slick pulse of pleasure caused her to moan. Her paws snapped up to grip the front of his shirt, desperate to balance herself as her knees became water. What had been a short nip the first time became a series of nibbling kisses that followed the rim of her ear all the way to the base. She had no resistance left, no desire to look for more by the time his teeth and lips left her ear.

    “We have to stop,” he whispered, words that came so suddenly that they managed to snap her back to where she was. And who she was with. And yet, she didn’t pull away from him even when he raised his eyes to look down at her.

    “Nick,” she breathed, her voice escaping in a tone she hardly recognized. The sudden loss of contact made her feel empty, and even a little annoyed. Her fingers tightened on his shirt as her other paw gripped his tie, and she had the satisfaction of watching his eyes go a little wide as she pulled him forward. “How sensitive are your ears?”

    Knowing that she had caught him off guard was a temporary victory, a feeling of satisfaction that was replaced with a need to know the answer to her own question. Feeling his breath catch and then rush out in a low growl when she turned her lips to the tip of his ear made pleasure roll through her. She wasn’t going to let him walk away and leave her wanting like he had last time, at least not before she knew for certain that this rush was mutual. She kissed the tip lightly, letting the longer fur tickle her lips as she exhaled a warm breath, delighted when the fur on the back of his neck rose and quivered. The paw at her hip tightened and the other came around the back of her neck but didn’t try to guide or stop her when she breathed again.

    He was right. They needed to stop. His scent was too good. The paws that could so easily possess her were trembling as in what she could only believe was control on his part. And more than that, she didn’t know that she wanted him controlled. She wanted more but was entirely unsure if she was ready for it.

    “You’re right,” she said, taking one daring moment to close her lips on the edge near the base for a suckle. When it caused him to tense, growl, and then moan in the most perfectly male sound she had ever heard, she slowly drew back to look at him. His eyes were bright and a little stunned, no doubt a match for hers as she relaxed her grip on his shirt and slid her paws over his chest to smooth the fabric. He was breathing as quickly as she was, and it made her smile faintly. “I suppose now we know it wasn’t a one-time fluke.”

    “Was there ever a doubt?” he asked, his tone low and breathless as she felt his paws slide away from her body. And they did slide, she realized. Not simply pulled away, lifted, or removed. His paw slid around her waist far more slowly than was needed, causing her eyes to drop half-lidded when she tilted into the touch before it was gone. She smiled a little, when she felt him button her suit again, her gaze on his until he was finished. Then he leaned in close, and before she realized what he was doing… His lips very faintly ghosted over her cheek. For something that couldn’t even really be called a kiss, the shock that passed between them almost made her reconsider the decision to stop herself. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you for ice cream.”

    The words surprised a laugh out of her as he released her, violet eyes sparkling as she searched his face to see if he was serious. “I thought we needed to be more careful,” she teased lightly as she took a half step away before reaching up to straighten his tie.

    “Being more careful doesn’t mean I intend to lock you away in the office,” he replied, his smirk soft but slightly reserved. She wondered how much effort it took for him to put on that cool face again, and how hard it might be for him to restrain himself. She knew it wasn’t easy for her, nor would focusing on the information from Flash once she opened when he sent. A smile spread and she dropped her paws away from his tie when his answer delighted her to no end.

    “Besides, I feel like I could use something as cold and huge as a Jumbo Pop right about now.”

 

* * *

 

He was injured.

“Take a slow, deep breath,” said the older male in a low, soothing voice that they both knew very well. It was also a voice that seemed low on patience, which was not entirely unexpected given the fact that the patient had not been entirely cooperative to this point. It had taken fifteen minutes just to get him to sit rather than returning to his dojo. “I would prefer that you allow me to x-ray your chest to avoid complications, but a few fractured ribs shouldn’t be a real problem for someone at your level of fitness and age. The bruised sternum will be uncomfortable, but you likely won’t even notice it while the ribs heal.”

Her ears jerked reflexively as she listened from her desk, the document on the desk in front of her, one which detailed an important trade agreement with an outside territory, blank as far as she was concerned. Fractured ribs? When was the last time he had gotten more than a scratch? It was something that she didn’t even need to think about, because she remembered with full clarity the last time he had been injured. The last time she had needed Lyndon for more than a routine checkup. When she had sent Jack, with great trepidation, to remove an entire organization from Zootopia. Believing that the stoic bunny, who sat without expression as the long-horned Saola Ox listened to his breathing with a stethoscope one more time, could have been seriously injured was madness to her. Not by a single fox.

Certainly not by Nicholas.

“There is the risk of infection,” the older male continued as he removed the stethoscope from his ears, then moved his hooves to the bare chest of the bunny to carefully feel around. She knew that even the slightest twitch from Jack would be enough for the ox, the only mammal in Zootopia that she trusted with his health or even the knowledge of his existence, to register that reaction as pain. In the end, he gave a satisfied if grave nod before pulling himself to his feet. “Lung collapse, muscle tearing, pneumonia are all possibilities. I will need to do bi-weekly checkups for the first few weeks and weekly after that just as a precaution. You will have to restrict your routine. Light exercise at most. No acrobatics, no sparing, and no outside activities for the next few weeks.”

“I will see to it myself,” she said, finally forgetting the pretense that she was doing anything other than paying attention to the two males. Rising gracefully from her desk, the Red Fox walked around it with her eyes resting on the striped rabbit. “We can manage without you for a few weeks, Jack. It will only require minor adjustments to the schedule.”

It was a lie. It would require the most extensive reworking of mammalpower since she had taken this office and would restrict her movement for a time. Loyal as he was, she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he would sit in his quarters and trust someone else to do what he did. Even though the face of the bunny remained expressionless, the subtle narrowing of ice blues told her that he knew this already. But that wasn’t his concern. Not now. Of all the things she could and would risk, Jack was not one of them.

“Very good then,” the doctor said, rising from the chair beside Jack’s. Brown eyes turned to her as he reached up to scratch the side of his white spotted muzzle absently. “He may need ice compresses to reduce the swelling, and I’ll send up some pain medication. Mild pain medication that won’t cause drowsiness, of course.”

That last bit was added when the rabbit’s eyes darted to his face, causing the older male to roll his eyes slightly before he focused them on the vixen.

“Of course, Dr. Lyndon,” she replied easily, keeping her voice easy as she placed her paw on his arm as she walked him towards the elevator. A warning glance was cast towards Jack when he started to rise, one which he understood well enough to allow himself to sink back into the chair without visual complaint. “Thank you for coming to see him at this hour of the morning. I know that you have a Council meeting in a few hours.”

“As do you,” he reminded her, reaching up to pat the paw on his arm. She smiled slightly at the gesture, mostly because he was one of the few mammals that she welcomed the light affection from. “I wish you would tell me what happened, or at least allow me to x-ray him. It is difficult to gage complications without knowing what caused this.”

“There are things you are better not knowing, Darius,” she said lightly, though the stern edge in her voice made it clear that there was no debate to be had on the subject. Her face softened when he gave a resigned nod in reply, his long horns bobbing a bit as one ear flicked in un-voices annoyance. “As one of three mammals in Zootopia who knows he exists, you know better than most that the secret has been kept for this long as it has _because_ I don’t share everything.”

“So, I will simply go with the idea that he was hit by a very small, very fast truck,” the doctor deadpanned as he looked down at her once they reached the elevator, words that caused her to pause as she slipped the key into the slot.

“Is that what is looks like?”

“It looks like he was shot with a high caliber round while wearing a bulletproof vest,” he said, nodding towards the bunny who sat silently in the dimly lit Apex with his paws on his knees. “Whatever hit him struck the projector in the suit dead on. If not for that, it would likely have shattered his ribs rather than simple fracturing them.”

There was a twist in her gut, one that caused a slight ripple in her fur as it tried to rise on the back of her neck, a reaction that lasted for a fraction of a second before she brushed it aside. “Yes. We can assume it was a small, fast-moving truck in that case. Thank you again, Doctor. I will see you in a few hours.”

“Of course, Administrator,” he said, his tone more businesslike as he stepped into the lights of the elevator. “Be sure that he relaxes. Discipline is a fine thing to have, but only to an extent when injured. He needs to relax, more than I’ve seen him relax in… Well, ever.”

When the doors slid closed, she stood in front of them for a moment longer to gather herself and settle her nerves before she turned back into her private world. Even as silent as her footsteps were as she crossed the large room, his eyes moved to her when she approached. “I am still capable of carrying out…”

“Enough, Jack,” she said sharply, causing the bunny to fall into silence. His face hardened, his back straightened which made her wince even more than he did when it pulled on overtaxed muscles. “This is not a subject that is open for debate or pride. Consider yourself removed from any outside activities until you are cleared by Doctor Lyndon.”

“Then you’re not leaving my sight,” he said, the words as much as the steel in his tone shocking her into silence for a moment. “Whatever plans you have outside of this building need to be postponed if you expect me to do the same.”

It caused a tick in her chest that was almost painful, a flutter in her belly that required her to draw a slow breath as she walked around the chair to stand behind him. Even if she knew it was just duty to him, intellectually, that rare and unwavering defiance on her behalf was thrilling.

“I know,” she murmured gently, raising one tentative paw. She couldn’t control the fact that it trembled just a bit before she placed it on his bare shoulder, feeling the warmth of his fur and the strength of the compact muscle that tensed slightly at the touch. She didn’t pull away, though. Instead, she placed her other paw on the opposite shoulder as the male in front of her kept his eyes forward and his back straight. “I am already reworking the schedule in my mind. It’s not going to be much of a problem.”

“You’re lying,” he said flatly, though his tone caused a small smile to curve her muzzle. More relaxed already, knowing that she wouldn’t try to do anything without him. How could she, after all? He was vital to everything. “It will cause a great deal of trouble. I am still more than capable of doing anything you need.”

“Only at the risk of making things worse,” she said, her tone cooling even as her fingers gently squeezed his shoulders. Squeezed again, before she started to gently knead the tense muscles as she watched him. She saw the very faint motion of his ears as they seemed to straighten atop his head, an obvious reaction considering how seldom they were afforded such close contact. She was determined to savor it, extend it if possible. “Even if it is a small risk, it is not one I am willing to take with you.”

“I understand,” he said, his tone flat as his gaze remained resolutely forward. The tone may have seemed calm, but there was something else in it that she could never quite place. Carefully, she rolled his thumbs between his shoulder blades until she saw those high ears start to relax as the muscles under her pads started to ease. “Things have changed.”

“Yes, they have,” she agreed, trying to divide mind from the reactions of her body as she took a long moment to admire the rabbit in front of her. The soothing stroke of her touch followed the dark stripes up over the back of his neck, the black fur melting into the ruddy coloring of her fingers as she worked at the knot of tension she found there. As she tried to drain the tension from him, she felt a different sort building in herself. But it wasn’t the first time she would have forced herself to ignore it. “Seeing Nicholas kill the first assassin was a surprise. Taking out the wolves for fear that he couldn’t handle them alone might have been a miscalculation.”

“We had no way of knowing his true level of skill.”

His voice was more relaxed now, too, though he was still as focused on the conversation as she was. They were a softness to the tone, however, as his muscles slowly relaxed under her touch. His fur warmed, her breathing evened out and slowed, and she felt him lead further back into the chair as his posture became less important than what she was doing to him. It encouraged her to continue, spreading both of her hands out over his shoulders in a feather light caress that made her imagine a shiver running through him even as she kept her own in check. Golden eyes followed the motion of striped ears as they drooped just a little in her direction, putting them close enough so that her next words whispered over his fur.

“You did say that you wanted to assess him,” she commented, trying desperately to keep herself focused. She did manage it, simply because the subject of the conversation was dear to her. As dear as the rabbit her order had caused to come to harm. “Do you have one?”

“He is skilled,” he said, his voice softer now. Softer still as she pressed the pads of her palms into his shoulder in a firm, repeated slide down the curve of his shoulders. “I was cocky, and paid for it. I landed the first blow, could have killed him in that moment if that had been the intent. His reactions seemed slow.”

“But?” she pressed gently, watching his ears fall further until they reached a state of peace when they folded down fully and rested over the back of the chair. On impulse, she moved her hands from his shoulders to the top of his head, to the base of his ears for a soft touch that this time made her stomach quake lightly before she could stop it.

“But,” he continued, his voice drifting and distant. So rare, she realized, for him to be this relaxed and peaceful. So perfectly wonderful. She would have to do this again, touch him like this again, even if she knew he would never want it to go further. “He adapted more quickly than I’ve ever seen before. He didn’t try to move faster to match my speed; he changed techniques entirely. He led _me_ to where he wanted me to be, and struck before I realized what was happening. And he struck with the intent of finishing it.”

“The doctor said that without the holo-projector on your chest, the damage could have been much worse,” she conformed, though even as she digested this stunning information about the fox she thought she knew, she still couldn’t take her eyes from the male in front of her. Her fingers moved down his ears, one paw to either one as she worked her thumb and forefinger on the rim of each one. It would relax him, she knew, and was proven right when his head tilted back to allow her uninterrupted access as a slow sigh escaped him. But she knew that this was an indulgence on her part, for him as much as her. He deserved some care, after all. He had always deserved more than she could give him. She smiled lightly, prettily as she teased, “Are you saying that he’s better than you?”

“Unknown,” he said simply, surprising her with the calm of the statement. It had never even been a question before, never even seemed a possibility and she found the answer as shocking as the feel of his warm flesh under her pads was delightful. “We were both holding back to some degree. He knows I was, or I would have killed him. And I know he was because he didn’t follow through after taking the advantage. Does it matter?”

His eyes were open now, looking up at her from where his head rested on the back of the chair. She wondered how much of the heat in those eyes was her imagination and how much was simply a result of the conversation about the battle. She did not stop the stroke of her fingers, however, and smiled faintly when she actually did see him shiver. A sensitive spot, right past the rim towards the center, that she committed to memory. She almost, just almost, allowed herself to wonder what it would take to seduce him. It was respect, and doubt, that had her pushing the thought aside again when she replied.

“You are both important to me. It would be better if there were no surprises, and this comes as a surprise,” she admitted, her eyes moving over the handsome face of the rabbit once his eyes had drifted closed under her attention. “I didn’t expect Nicholas to be a real concern in Zootopia.”

“Whatever he might have been before, Neveen, is gone now. He’s not the spoiled rich Todd you told me about years ago,” he murmured, making a slow chill slide down her spine that finally had the fur on the back of her neck standing on end when he finished, “As long as he is protecting her, he’s much more dangerous."


	17. An Actor's Life For Me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a collaboration with Kulkum (writer) TheWyvernsWeaver(main artist) Akiric (Storyboard sketches) and And Skeletonguys-And_Ragdolls
> 
> [See the Comic here!](https://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-16-1-An-Actor-s-Life-For-Me-712422843)  
> 
> 
>  

_Why had they stopped themselves?_

It was the first coherent thought she had on waking. A thought that took a full five minutes to form as she lay on her back covered in sheets that felt too hot, wearing clothes that felt too tight. Even her fur itched. Every breath was filled with the phantom scent of… _Him._ Her body tingled where the dream lover, whom she had absolutely no problem identifying, had touched her with those large ruddy paws. Her tongue slipped out over lips that could still fell the heat of his against them, deepening her regret in those first few moments of full wakefulness. Her dream had lacked taste. She didn’t know the flavor of his lips, her mind had nothing to compare, so that left her feeling as empty as the ache between her thighs. Thighs that rubbed together as she squirmed over the sheets uncomfortably, long front teeth chewing on her lower lip as the scent from her dream refused to fade.

“I admit,” came his voice, causing eyes that she had closed in her attempt to sort her thoughts with her lust to snap open as she sat bolt upright. Clutching the sheet to her chest, she saw him in the center of the room in a chair, eyes shimmering in the faint morning light seeping in through the closed blinds. “I am curious about that dream, Carrots.”

This explained the scent that wouldn’t fade, a knowledge that only made her nose twitch uncontrollably in a way she was sure was noticeable to the male watching her. The smell was clean, washed fur and male fox mingled with the faint scent of flowers.

 _No,_ she thought as she realized the scent wasn’t separate, wasn’t distinct from the musk that she recognized as Nick. _That’s a part of it. Not on top, not added. Just… buried in faintly with the rest of him. Do all foxes smell like this?_

It was a question she couldn’t ask him just then, for fear of making a fool of herself while more hormones than she knew existed battled against her common since. Had he been there all night? Had he even slept?

“You know what I was dreaming about,” she said, her ears perked towards him and her face kept as calm as possible to hide the fact that the words surprised her even as they left her muzzle. “After nibbling on each other last night, I would have been surprised if we’d dreamed of anything else.”

“And how do you know I dreamed about you?” he asked, leaning forward to place the still full shot glass on the floor at his feet. The motion and the way his eyes lingered on hers as his own nostrils flared made her realize that he could smell her. Smell what the dream had stirred up, and what that look threatened to set on fire all over again.

“I can smell you just as clearly,” she bluffed, keeping her tone prim even as her heart fluttered in her chest. She was aware that he continued to watch her as she tossed aside the covers and dangled her legs from the edge of the bed facing him. Having slept only in a shirt and panties, she felt a little thrill when his gaze wandered to her hips and thighs. He didn’t look at her like any buck she had ever known. They had always tried to be polite, romantic, sweet, which often led them to sneak glances when they thought she wasn’t looking. This fox looked at her like he wanted to pin her back against the bed where she sat, did it openly without fear, yet made it clear that he would not simply take. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it. “Why did you stop us from going further?”

“Because neither of us is ready to go further,” he replied simply, green eyes raising to hers again.

“And how do you know I’m not ready?” she asked, frowning slightly at the question. She certainly _felt_ ready, even though she knew he was right.

“Because you’re not crawling into my lap right now,” he said, a toothy grin crawling over his muzzle that had one of her own growing as her eyes lowered and her ears dropped back. Dropped back mostly so he wouldn’t see how pink the skin inside was when he continued, “I am pretty hot as foxes go.”

A scoff escaped her but only held for a second before she covered her mouth with the back of her paw as a laugh escaped her. Damn him, too, because he was right about that. When their eyes met again, they held for a long moment in silence as they considered each other. Then she hopped lightly from the bed, her ears dropping back as she slowly walked towards him without letting her gaze waiver. His ears twitched, his nostrils flaring when she reached out to place one paw on his bare chest, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart and the heat of his fur. Then she leaned close and placed a kiss to the side of his cheek.

“Thank you,” she murmured, nuzzling her nose into his fur to take in his scent as her fingers ran slowly through the fur of his chest. She smiled slightly when he turned his muzzle to her ear, expecting for him to return with something as simple as ‘You’re welcome.’ Of course, she should have learned by then not to expect anything when dealing with him, shivering when his breath caressing her inner ear very lightly as he growled.

“Go take a shower, Carrots,” is what he said, his tone warm but controlled as his paw covered hers on his chest. “Before the way you smell overcomes any common sense I have left.”

“Then we’ll go get some ice-cream?” she asked, her tone light but steady as she pulled away. She couldn’t resist the almost pained look on his face so she reached out with one paw to scratch lightly under his chin. A chin that lifted as a light murr escaped his muzzle as he turned to walk to the door.

“Yeah,” he said, following a long and breathy sigh that had her smiling over her shoulder as she stepped out of the room.

_______________________________________

Understanding the fox was not as hard as she thought it would be at first, at least on a base level. Glancing at him now as they walked down the sidewalk, he seemed a completely different mammal from the one she had woken up to find sleeping next to her bed. It still brought a slight heat bubbling under her fur. On one level, she couldn’t understand how the fox who had looked ready to ravish her only an hour before could look so blank and calm now behind the dark glasses that once more covered his eyes. On another, she could understand it. She often had to put on a professional face when she was in court, bury emotional reactions and sometimes even act them out when she didn’t feel them. But it was always acting, one way or the other.

For him, it was almost like a switch. It could have been the way he focused on the street and sidewalk around them in the early morning sun. She was pretty sure that every mammal that crossed his gaze was suspect until he decided they were not a threat. His muzzle would linger on some longer than others, his ears turned this way and that. Definitely more cautious than he had been in previous days. She accepted that this extra caution might have been it. Yet even as she decided to focus on the meeting with Otterton later that day, his arm slipped around her waist to draw her close to him and out of the way as the massive door to Jumbeaux’s Café swung open. A rhino, who - like many of his kind - seemed somewhat annoyed, lumbered out of the shop with only a mildly curious glance in their direction before he walked off.

With its decorative and fluidly written sign displaying the name of the ice cream parlor, and the fact that it tended to serve the larger class of mammals in Zootopia, Judy was charmed almost instantly when she was lead into the classic style building. From the pastel colors of the walls and counter to the out dated architecture of the walls, she very quickly got the feeling that this place had been in business for a long time.

“I’m not looking for any trouble,” the gruff voice from behind the counter said, drawing her gaze to the massive form of the elephant. The fact that he looked frightened had her paw moving to grip Nick’s jacket, for a moment thinking that he was talking to them. Then her eyes followed the direction of the elephant’s trunk until it landed on a Red Fox. “But I’m not going to sell. I don’t think that answer is every going to change.”

The fox, who kept a pleasant smile on his face even as he was apparently turned down, looked in all honesty like a less than reputable character. She didn’t find the comparison to be unfair in his case, based on first impressions. Dressed in an all-black suit that hardly seemed to fit the lanky body, there was absolutely no care in the way he wore it. From the fact that the white shirt was untucked, unbuttoned down until she could see the gold chain hanging around his neck, and the jacket looked like something he might have picked up in a thrift shop for how poorly it fit him, he just looked… ragged. Even the hat resting between his ears was too small, misshapen, and, though it was clean, it just made him look like someone she wouldn’t have wanted to meet in a dark alley. And before she could berate herself for jumping to conclusions based on his appearance and the fact that he was a fox, he opened his mouth.

“I fully understand, of course,” he said cheerfully, swinging one paw wide. The acrid scent of the cigar reached her just as he shoved the unlit tip into his muzzle for a puff, the bright cherry at the tip causing his orange eyes to deepen into an almost blood red color. “But I wasn’t saying that you had a choice. This is a onetime offer to get full price, before I take it up with the Administrator herself. Then I will bury you in health code inspections and licensing paperwork for the next six months until you’re begging to sell the place.”

Her eyes turned up to Nick, finding that his face remained as impassive as it had been outside when he looked over the fox at the bar. The mention of the Administrator caused little more than a twitch of one ear before he led her further in without seeming overly concerned. Their entrance didn’t go unnoticed, drawing first the attention of the elephant who gave Nick an uneasy once over without even seeming aware of her existence, and then the eyes of the fox. Those eyes settled on her, narrowed for a moment, and then brightened as he puffed on the cigar in his muzzle a few times before he pulled it out and tapped the ashes on the counter in front of the mammal behind the bar.

“We’ll get back to this later, my friend,” he said cheerfully, tipping his hat towards the angry but silent elephant before he started in their direction. Feeling Nick tense, Judy raised her paw to his arm to stop him from moving to intercept. She didn’t feel… danger around the predator. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to see them, so she doubted he would be a violent threat. She simply saw someone who felt he was superior and wanted to prove it, something that was confirmed with the smirking grin that he easily kept in place as he strolled over to them. When he spoke, he ignored her and addressed Nick. “Well, what have we here? A bunny in Zootopia, what a rare treat you have there, friend! Name’s John. John Worthington.”

When he stuck out his paw, it was directed at Nick again, who rather than shaking the paw simply reached up to slide the sunglasses from his muzzle and tuck them into the inner pocket of his jacket. She used her hold on his arm to draw him closer and down to ear level. She kept her eyes on the red furred fox as she whispered to him, watching as the corners of his mouth tightened before he gave a nod in reply. Keeping her gaze on the fox, who watched Nick with an annoyed frown as he moved past them and up to the counter to order the promised ice-cream, Judy extended a paw when his attention returned to her.

“Judy Hopps,” she said, ignoring the fact that the fox looked down at her paw as though she had offered him some infectious disease instead. “A pleasure.”

“Why of course it is, of course it is,” he said, ignoring her paw while glancing towards the counter where Nick held up his paw with two fingers to the uneasy elephant. His ears perked toward her and after taking a long draw on the cigar, he expelled the smoke directly into her face. “Some reason you’re sneaking around Zootopia, rabbit? Did the quiet one buy you? Decided to show his rare piece of tail the sights of the city?”

The obviousness of the attempt to goad her allowed her to ignore the implications of his statement as easily as she waved the smoke away without so much as a cough. The ‘Bunny sex trade’ had been at best a myth, and that myth had mostly died a very long time ago, before her parents had even been born. Even with foxes in charge, if such a thing still existed they certainly didn’t parade the idea down the streets of the city. “He works for me,” she said simply, making sure that her ears remained high as she squared her shoulders a bit.

She did have the satisfaction of seeing the predator’s ears flatten on either side of his head for a moment, gaining with a simple statement of truth the same disgusted reaction he had obviously been trying to get out of her. Though maybe he was also trying to gain a bit of fear, which she refused to show when he tsked sharply and turned narrowed eyes to her. Then his mood seemed to soften, his eyes going sly as he chewed on the end of the cigar thoughtfully.

“Foxes don’t work for anyone,” he said, stepping away to start pacing around her with his tail swaying easily from side to side. It was when he came around behind her that she felt the slide of his tail around her hips. It wasn’t a sexual thing, so much as it was intended to make her feel surrounded when he leaned his muzzle over her opposite shoulder. She narrowed her eyes as she turned to meet the one eye that was facing her. “There is a reason you bunnies call this city The Foxes Den, after all.”

She smelled little more than smoke and unwashed fox now. The smell was heavy and unpleasant, almost rank as she forced her nose not to twitch and draw more of it is. She reminded herself to thank Nick later for the fact that he was familiar with the miracle of the shower when they were alone again. Now, she shook her head very faintly towards him when she saw that green eyes had gone to ice and he almost took a step towards them. She was aware that his eyes never left them, even though he stayed where he was for the time being.

“If I’m not mistaken,” she said, not giving him the satisfaction of trying to pull away. That, and possibly the chill in her tone, had him frowning again and drawing away as he dashed ashes from the cigar near her feet. “Whether or not you’re a fox, trying to coerce someone into selling their business under duress is extorsion.”

“Look,” the fox drawled out cheerfully, his tail swinging behind him as he did an odd two-step dance to place himself in front of her again, “we’re just trying to help the city. Trying to make sure that Zootopia is everything it should be now and in the future. There is nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“Everything it should be?” she repeated, making sure that her tone was obviously skeptical as she glanced around the shop. “This isn’t good enough? Clean establishment, long standing owner who obviously knows how to run the business, a prime location, classic appeal. What exactly could be better?”

“Well…”

“Is it because it’s not run by foxes?” The bluntness of the question had him pausing with the cigar halfway to his muzzle, his eyes narrowing on her. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t a fair question. What were you before?”

“I’m sorry, but before what?” he replied, his stance falling a bit as he brought the cigar to his muzzle. His mood was not so forcefully cheerful now, she noted.

“Before foxes took charge in Zootopia,” was her reply, though she waved him off as she started to walk the café without looking at him directly now. “I expect you were a low-level hood, a gambler, maybe even a slum lord since you’ve turned your attention to real estate.”

“What is your point, rabbit?” he said, not quite able to keep the growl out of his tone. This told her that she had hit the mark somewhere, and carried that forward as she ran one paw over the smooth and colorful wood of the decorative logo on the side of the counter.

“I’ve seen your kind before,” she explained, shrugging slightly as she moved towards him again with a glint in violet eyes. “Maybe not in exactly the same way, but it’s always familiar. A criminal who has come into legitimate money or power decides he wants to show everyone what a big shot he is. So they try to polish themselves, strut around town with a smile in a suit that looks like a hand-me-down from their second cousin, talking big, claiming to know big mammals.”

“Usually,” she continued, even though she could see the muscles of his jaw working as he ground his teeth on the end of the cigar, “when they don’t get what they want right away, they start to show their true colors. They become mean with their new-found power. They take the fact that they were once downtrodden out on the society that did it to them. They start making demands, start making ultimatums like walking into ice-cream shops and threatening the owner because they, in their self-proclaimed greatness, are suddenly not only equal to society: they’re better than it. Why shouldn’t you be allowed to demand more?”

“And in cases like that, Mr. Worthington,” she said, stopping in front of him and meeting his furious eyes with a fierce yet cool indifference, “for all the bluster and surface polish, it just makes you angry deep down when people see through it because of those actions. Inside you cringe at the reality that no matter how much you try to pretend, no matter how many laws are passed to make foxes the big mammals on Zootopia, foxes like you will never be seen as anything more than bottom feeders.”

“You stupid slut bunny!” he shrieked, snatching the cigar from his mouth and hurling it to the ground at his feet as he stepped closer to her.

But whatever threat had been in his action as halted when the large, ruddy paw offered her the ice-cream cone. Vanilla swirl, from the look of it. When she reached up to take it and raised her eyes to Nick, she wasn’t surprised to see those green eyes focused on the other male. It wasn’t angry, really. It might have been called cool, and was unquestionably unwavering and intense. And while she didn’t know what secret language passed between the two foxes, she knew that the look had whatever Worthington had been wanting to say or do beyond calling her a stupid bunny grinding to a stop.

“You should keep your pet on a tighter leash,” the fox said, reaching up the tug on the lapels of his jacket before he straightened his hat. Just like that, the smile was back. “She doesn’t even belong in our city. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.”

The look of surprise was almost comical when Nick shoved the second ice-cream cone into the other fox’s paw, his expression unchanged even as the male shrugged and accepted it without complaint. Then they both watched as Nick bent down to retrieve the still smoldering cigar from the floor, stepped in front of the other fox, and with a short ‘hisss’ as the cherry was extinguished, pushed the tip of the cigar into the cone.

“She’s already crushed your self-esteem, Foulfellow,” Nick said simply while taking the cone back from the flabbergasted male. The he reached out to tug one side of the ill-fitted jacket open, pushed the ice-cream, cigar end down, into his inner pocket and allowed it to fall closed. He patted the spot in a friendly manner. “Don’t make it worse by forcing me to beat you unconscious.”

“You..!” Worthington began, followed by multiple silent attempts to speak that only ended in his snarling as he turned and stormed past them towards the exit of the café.

She turned to watch him, lifting the ice-cream to her muzzle for a slow lick even as he reached into his inner pocket to extract the ruined cone. He tossed it onto the sidewalk as he exited, cursing loudly as he went. The driver’s door to the car outside swung open and a rather strange looking bobcat stepped out, wearing a ridiculously oversized chauffeur’s jacket. He waddled over to open the door for Worthington, his paw, which was covered by the sleeve of his jacket, snapping up to salute the fox. She ignored them then, and when she returned her gaze to Nick, she found his attention was focused on her. Well, focused more on the fact that she was licking the sweet and cold ice-cream, a fact that had her slowing the lick considerably as she half-circled the two-toned orb with the tip of her pink tongue.

“Is there something on your mind, Nick?” she asked sweetly, licking a bit of cream from her lips when she finally decided to speak.

“I want a taste,” he said simply, his eyes not moving from her as a slow smile spread over her lips. The feeling of satisfaction of dealing with the fox – a fox that she would have to watch by way of making sure he didn’t get his paws on Jumbeaux’s Café anytime soon legally – combined with the little tingle in her belly, having her feeling more than a little bold as she took another lick before she offered the cone up to him.

“Of the ice-cream?” she asked, watching him as he leaned close.

Though his expression didn’t change overly much, there was a clear amusement in his eyes and his tone when he replied, “That, too,” before taking a lick for himself.

Her muzzle parted in a light grin before she snagged the ice-cream out of his reach and waved him towards the door.

“It will be fine,” she heard from behind her, making her pause and turn her eyes back to the elephant behind the counter. Her stomach dropped when she saw the owner leaning over the counter with his head on his folded arms, the other elephant standing next to him resting a soothing touch on the larger elephant’s shoulders. “We’ll call the bank. We’ll call a lawyer. He can’t just take it away.”

“Of course, he can take it away,” came the resigned voice, a moment before he lifted his head and turned his glistening gaze around the Café. “That’s what they do now. We’re the last on this street. Were the last. He’s going to take my baby away from me.”

“But it’s all we have, Jumbeaux,” the other began, only to stop when the large elephant rose from the counter and moved towards the back. His shoulders were slumped, his wide ears limp as he wandered towards the back in a nearly lifeless gait.

“We’ll shut down for the day,” he said without turning, causing Judy’s heart to clench when he affectionately touched the ornate wooden frame of one table for a moment before stepping through. “Tomorrow I’ll… I’ll see what I can do to get a fair price. She’s worth that much.”

Watching helplessly, a part of her mind wondering how much of this was her fault for confronting a fox.

 

 

 


	18. Enoch and the Watcher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter update at last! And a comic update, of course. Three of them, since I updated the fic here last.
> 
> [Find the Comic chapter by TheWyvernsWeaver Here!](https://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-17-1-Enoch-and-the-Watcher-717594409)  
>  

    The guards that patted him down even after a pass through the metal detector quickly noticed that he still wore his holsters. The lion, who had been forced to get down on one knee to easily reach the smaller mammals, subjected Nick to what he considered a very intrusive paw presses over every inch of his body. Including between his legs as if they didn’t believe his sheath was really his sheath. It was the nervous glance that the predator gave the other guards in the room when his fingers fell on the empty holsters that almost had the otherwise stoic fox releasing an annoyed sigh.

    “I wasn’t told that you turned any arms over to the steward,” the guard said evenly, looking about as uncomfortable but wary as a lion standing in front of a fox one fifth his size would look.

    “My weapons are not city property,” Nick stated firmly, ignoring the slanted glance that Judy shot him out of the corner of her eyes as she was similarly patted down by a far more feminine and less intrusive pig with a nametag that read Swineton. “And in the interest of not giving your steward the chance to lose them, I didn’t bring them with me.”

    “But you’re still wearing your shoulder holsters?” the guard commented, taking up the clipboard and writing notes as he drew himself to his full height. Nick imagined that this little move might have worked wonders at making most mammals nervous, maybe even slip up a bit in their attempts to slip contraband into the prison.

    “It is a considerable pain in the ass to take off,” he said without the slightest change in tone. “Is there a regulation against carrying empty holsters?”

    “Not as such,” the guard commented, giving a nod to the pig as she backed away from Judy without comment. “As long as you don’t try to strangle someone with the straps, I think you’re good to go.”

    “Should the need to strangle someone arise,” Nick said as they were waved through, his tail gently swaying in time with his steps as they were escorted down a short hallway that ended with a glass door, “my tie would be easier to take off.”

    “Nick, don’t tease the guards of this maximum-security prison while I’m working, please,” Judy commented, her voice as smooth and calm as she tended to be when she applied her lawyer face in full force.

    He followed the bunny, who herself followed the lion through the bullet resistant glass doors leading into the private visitation rooms. Rooms meant for lawyers and representatives, where paperwork was allowed without paperclips and everything was monitored by the watchful red eye of the cameras that covered every brightly lit corner of the hallway. Unsurprisingly, the air was kept sterile and scent neutral to the best of their ability. It would have been hard enough to manage so many mammals crammed into a tight space without the option to leave but allowing the territorial scents of hundreds of males to linger would only increase aggression. Mildly surprised when he realized he was wondering what the ventilation system in a building this size cost the city to run 365 days a year cost the taxpayers, he decided he must have been bored and dismissed it when the lion stopped at one solid white, unimpressive door out of five.

    When the door was opened by a loud mechanical buzz, he could see the otter. Wearing the typical orange jumpsuit as he sat at the solid metal table with his paws folded and cuffed to the table top. His expression was what Nick would have called forced equanimity, one that was made hard to believe given the haggard look of the small male. He had bags under his eyes that were so dark that it would be seen even under his fur and thick glasses, his fur was ruffled and unkempt, and his eyes occasionally darted from one side of the room to the next. He had the looks of a male who was somewhere and didn’t fully comprehend where he was yet. As if, reality has he knew it had shifted far too quickly, by no action of his own.

    It was an expression Nick knew all too well.

    “The prisoner is to remain seated at all times,” the guard began, speaking as though this was something he said every day. Which is likely was. Judy herself also seemed familiar with the process, standing at the door without a complaint as the rules were spelled out. “Nothing aside from paper is to be passed to the prisoner, in which case you will slide the paper across the table rather than handing it to him directly.  Making direct contact with the prisoner is prohibited for your own safety. Do not accept anything from the prisoner that you did not bring into the room yourself. In such cases, the prisoner is expected to slide the item across the table. The prisoner is restrained. If the prisoner becomes aggressive, simply move away from the table and a guard will arrive to let you out. The room is visually monitored. The guards monitoring cannot hear your conversation, but it is being recorded. This recording is kept at a separate security company. A copy of this recording can be requested if desired.”

    “I understand,” she said simply, and he followed her as they stepped past the guard when he waved them into the room.

    “You have thirty minutes,” he finished, before drawing the door closed behind them. Nick’s ear twitched slightly, a little tingle sliding down the back of his neck for a moment before it faded at the unconcerned look on Judy’s face.

    “Mr. Otterton, as I’m sure you know, I’m Judy Hopps,” she began as she crossed the room towards him. The instant reflex to offer her hand to her client was seen in the jerk of her arm before he relaxed at her side again as she took her seat at the small table. Nick took this moment to stand off to the side of the table, something that drew an uneasy glance from the smaller predator. “I have been assigned to handle your final appeal in… Your case.”

    “You can say it,” the long-whiskered mammal said after her hesitation. He looked across the table with about as much emotion as the table itself, with brown eyes that seemed dulled by months in prison. “The murder of my wife.”

    “Yes,” she continued, reaching into her jacket pocket to withdraw her notepad and carrot pen. He wasn’t sure which of these amused him more. One, because he had been sure that she would be walking around the city with more than a simple notepad. And two, because the carrot pen looked very unusual in the paw of such a sharp-tongued and obviously intelligent bunny. “The murder of your wife. I have made some progress in finding discrepancies in the official reports but not enough at this point to ensure that the appeal would be a success. I have some more information that I need to go through before I can decide how to proceed and I need you to clear some things up for me.”

    There was a long moment of silence. Silence broken only by the light sound of her fingers moving over paper as she flipped through the notepad to review her notes. He could see the curious look in the eyes of the otter, though that curiosity was focused on Judy rather than the notebook itself.

    “You’re not going to offer sympathy or claim to understand the death of my mate, Mrs. Hopps?” Otterton asked suddenly, causing Judy to glance up from the page she had been focused on for a moment. “Ask me how I am doing? How prison is treating me?”

    “Given your popularity in Zootopia before the murder,” she began, turning another page in the notebook before she set it in front of her and raised her eyes to focus on him, “I am sure you’ve received your share of both empty or sincere well wishes and platitudes. I doubt you really want me to add to them.”

    “A fair assumption,” he replied, the first ghost of a smile coming to his muzzle. Though it was only a ghost before the haunted expression returned just before he turned his eyes to his paws. Paws that were currently cuffed and chained to the bolt on the table. “And a correct one. You say you have more information to go through?”

    “Yes, but it is not something that I am willing to get into until I have reviewed it,” she explained, allowing the otherwise silence fox to understand exactly what information she was referring to. “Once it has been reviewed, if anything of value comes from it, I will be sure to bring it to your attention.”

    “If not to review something new, why are you here? And who is your silent friend?”

    “Nick,” he replied before she could, his gaze hardly wavering from the otter as he stood with his arms folded over his chest.

    “He’s my bodyguard while I’m in Zootopia,” Judy explained and looked ready to continue on before the next question had her pausing.

    “The Administrator sent someone to guard you?”

    “He doesn’t work for the Administrator any more than I do,” she replied, keeping her eyes level on the male across the table. “He works for me. No one else.”

    Being mostly sure that she believed that now, it was still good to hear her express it to someone else aloud. It caused his ears to flick slightly as he watched the otter really relax for the first time since they had come into the room.

    “I don’t know how much help you expect me to be,” he said, his tone sullen but no longer as reserved. “I gave my statement and my statement was ignored. Having it again certainly isn’t going to change the minds of the courts that put me in here to begin with. If I could even blame the courts for that.”

    “You think someone else was involved?” Judy asked, her pen poised above the paper. When it was obvious that no answer was forthcoming, she leaned forward slightly until the otter met her gaze. “You’re not the only one who thinks that. The basis of my case is the fact that you were arrested, tried, and convicted with minimal evidence. Given your activities in the city prior to the murder, it goes without saying that you had to have some enemies.”

    “And now you’re looking for something to tip the scales in the appeal,” he said, a statement rather than a question as he spread his paws outward. “That is no small task, given the time that has passed, Mrs. Hopps. And the fact that, yes, I believe someone else was involved.”

    “Do you have any suspicion of who that ‘someone’ might be?”

    “None,” was his simple reply, though it was followed by a sigh as he tilted his head back to look at the bare white ceiling. “But that you would ask also means that you have no idea yourself. That is unfortunate.”

    “But not something I intend to dismiss,” she assured him, causing his bushy brows to raise as he returned his gaze to her. “But right now, I want to focus on making sure that the facts of this case come to the surface. Once we have answers, once you are a free mammal, then I will do everything in my power to make sure the case is reopened.”

    There was a flicker of something in the otter’s eyes then. A spark that broke through what had been a dull, hopeless gaze from the moment they had walked into the room. Eagerness. A willingness to cooperate, Nick had no doubt. He had not seemed overly interested in being cleared of his wife’s murder, but the first mention of looking beyond that had his round ears perking towards Judy as he leaned across the table as far as he could.

    “Then ask me your questions, Mrs. Hopps,” Otterton said, obviously more focused and willing now that he saw the potential future.

 

* * *

 

    She had asked these questions before, from a different angle. What had he done on the day of his wife’s murder? Typical day. Had anyone threatened them? No. Had he argued with her at any point before the murder? No. The answers were a basic corroboration of everything she had been told up to this point and matched the times on the police reports almost exactly. A little discrepancy was to be expected. The passage of time caused memories to fade, as did traumatic events. She still wrote all of it down as they spoke, the pen scribbling across the paper in largely shorthand text, save for specific times and names. Of course, she had expected everything to this point to match up.

    Now, she started to ask the questions about the events around the time of the murder.

    “What time did you return home?” she asked easily, keeping her tone calm and professional even knowing she was about to cross into the real trauma for the otter.

    “I started home at 9:30 pm, I think,” he murmured, answering the question automatically. He has likely been asked these questions a few dozen times by the ZPD alone. “Traffic is never heavy at that time of night, so it didn’t take me long.”

    “Did you make any stops along the way?”

    “I… Yes, yes. One stop,” he said, his brow creasing as he tried to remember this detail. “I stopped at the gas station down the road from our house, but I don’t know what time exactly. I didn’t look at the clock.”

    “How long does it normally take you to get home?” she asked, her ears perked high. This information was new and wasn’t in any of the reports.

    “Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty if I stop,” he said, starting to look weary. Not surprising. She knew he was already bracing himself for the events inside the house. “Which I did this time. The wife had me watching my sugar intake but I sometimes stopped on the way home for a little treat. Everyone needs a little treat now and then. Just a candy bar.”

    “Did you happen to see a police cruiser at the same gas station?” she asked as the new information perked her interest, pressing forward without pause when she saw blame coming over the older mammal’s expression. That sort of self-loathing that came from someone she knew still asked himself ‘If I hadn’t stopped for that candy bar.’

    “I don’t think so, but I wasn’t really paying attention at the time,” he admitted, folding his paws and wringing them in front of him. “I was asked that question before. The officers that were first on the scene were at the same gas station, it seems. I have no doubt that the detectives didn’t believe me. Didn’t believe that I had stopped at the gas station, that is.”

    “Did you get a receipt?” she asked, seeing him fiddling with his claws nervously. The motion didn’t go unnoticed, though she kept her gaze locked on his as he raised them pleadingly to her.

    “I always get receipts. I couldn’t tell them where it was, though. It’s not like I have a file for every receipt when I spend a buck fifty! I paid cash, the cashier didn’t remember my face, that station doesn’t have security cameras, and I still didn’t bother to check the clock when I left.” The laugh that escaped him was slightly manic before he dropped his head into his paws. “The stop that could prove so much doesn’t actually prove anything, do it?”

    “Go on,” she murmured after a moment, resisting the urge to reach over and touch his paw out of comfort. “Tell me what happened when you arrived home.”

    “Skipping the ‘I arrived and walked through the door details,’” he replied in a low tone, raising his head with a surprising look of steel coming over his otherwise friendly face. Bracing himself, she decided, to tell a story he had told many times before. “My wife was lying on the floor when I got there. It… Took a few seconds to register. For a moment, I convinced myself that she had simply decided to take a nap in the middle of the floor. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

    “Not really,” she soothed lightly now, trying not to glance at the fox who had stood unmoving for the majority of their questioning. She almost felt the desire to make sure he was still there, but remained focused on her client. “Go on, please.”

    “The moment passed. I’m not sure if it was because her eyes were wide open or because of the blood covering her. And the floor around her.” His voice dropped, so low that, if she hadn’t been a bunny she might have missed his words as he continued. “Even then I thought, it had to be a joke. I wasn’t laughing when I walked over to her, the smell of blood assaulting me, and the knife on the floor beside her. She was still warm when I knelt beside her. So warm I almost had hope that she was still alive. Except, I knew she wasn’t. I didn’t realize I was crying until I lost sight of her behind tears. Didn’t bother trying to look again. I just fell on top of her, sobbing.”

    His eyes were dry now, which did not change the fact of the sorrow in his voice. Months of tears, being forced to relive the events in testimony, being accused of her murder. Judy was not surprised that he had run out of tears, even for his mate.

    “I heard a sound then. The front door opening, the hum of voices. I thought the killer had come back for a moment, and I’m not sure if it was terror or blind fury that had me reaching for the knife. Because that is exactly what I should have done. Reach for the murder weapon without thinking.” He managed to release a light snort as he scrubbed his hands over his muzzle. “It was the ZPD. Officer Weaselton, standing there looking at me. I expect the rest is a part of record.”

    “You mean when you turned, Officer Weaselton was already standing there?” she asked, her gut knotting slightly as she finally took the chance to glance back at Nick. Still as he was, his ears were perked towards the otter, his interest peaked. “Meaning that he would have seen you pick up the knife?”

    “I think so, yes. Is that important?”

    “Maybe,” she murmured, scribbling on her pad. She would need to review Weaselton’s report again, cross it with Fangmeyer’s, and check forensics to see if it would lead to anything. “His report states that you were kneeling beside your Mrs. Otterton with the knife in your paw. If he saw you pick it up, that’s just another inconsistency to add to a pile of inconsistencies. Do you happen to remember his expression?”

    The rap on the door made the otter jump, though Judy had been expecting it.

    “Thirty minutes are up,” said the lion as he opened the door and stepped through. They were actually ten minutes over the thirty they had been allowed, so she would have to thank the guards for their patients.

    “I thought that he was the killer,” Otterton answered quickly, even as Judy stood from her chair. “For a moment, he almost looked pleased. Maybe a little manic. But once I realized he was a police officer, I realized that he looked angry.”

    “Or maybe you did see it and his expression changed,” Nick offered, taking his place beside Judy when she tucked her pad away.

    “Thank you, Mr. Otterton,” Judy said, keeping her mind focused on the otter in front of her to keep it from running off in the fifteen different directions it wanted to go already. “We will speak again once I have reviewed everything I’ve learned.”

    “Thank you, Mrs. Hopps,” he returned, eyes cautiously hopefully behind dark-rimmed glasses as he offered a faint smile. “I feel better now, knowing you’re putting real effort into…”

    The ‘whump’ behind her and the deep grunt from the guard had her ears twitching. She turned in time to see the guard twitching guard crumble to the floor just inside the door. Behind him were three coyotes in blazing orange jumpsuits like the one Otterton wore, sharp teeth exposed by snarling muzzles, and at least one long shiv.

    Nick’s reaction was instant when the three males spilled into the room with growls and raised weapons. One strong paw gripped her shoulder painfully as she was swept behind him, shoved towards the corner of the room without a word until she stood where he could box her in and keep the predators from reaching her. Two of the attackers moved towards them together, her heart jumping into her throat as she fell back to press tightly against the wall. The fox ducked the first blow, rose up with a vicious uppercut that had the like-sized predator’s head snapping back. Her eyes darted towards Otterton, who was struggling to hide under the table without success due to the cuffs on his paws, then towards the door as she prepared to scream for a guard.

    There she saw one of the only one of the three males who had not attacked Nick straight away, the paw around the shiv tightening as he nervously glanced at the fighting males. It was only when one of the two males fighting Nick was sent flying into the far wall by a well-placed kick that this male moved. Judy braced, ready to shout a warning to Nick of the coming attack, only to realize that Nick wasn’t the target. She wasn’t the target.

    The male ran straight towards Otterton.

    Fear fed adrenaline had her moving without thinking, watching the male leap onto the table as Otterton tried unsuccessfully to free himself from the cuffs that kept him chained to the table. She heard Nick call her name, his voice demanding, annoyed, and fearful. She didn’t have time to even decide to ignore him as the coyote jumped on the table just as she reached it herself. The shiv raised, Otterton cried out in fear, and she swung the metal chair into the predator’s legs with every ounce of strength she had. Later, she would be pleased with the results though she would gladly give the credit to the adrenal strength. A strength that allowed her to literally knock the legs out from under the larger mammal, sending him spilling gracelessly, and with a pained yelp, over the edge of the table. The pang of panic when he managed to draw himself to his feet was quickly replaced with relief when Nick appeared behind him. She winced when he kicked the other male’s legs out again and drove him muzzle-first into the tabletop before letting him slide bonelessly to the floor.

    She glanced around quickly, not even realizing that she still held the back of the chair tightly in both paws, ready to swing again. Relief flooded her when she saw that the other two males were similarly spread over the floor, and even more when four more guards swarmed the room. She released a slow breath, drew another, and released it with a trembling sigh when Nick moved to her side and gently pried the chair from her grip.

    “You swing a mean chair, Carrots,” he murmured, causing her to release a short, humorous laugh. Deep green eyes that were both annoyed and concerned swept over her, making sure she had not been injured before he drew her to the side to allow a white-tailed buck to access the unconscious coyote. “Nice hit.”

    “Mrs. Hopps, if I was happy to have you as my lawyer a minute ago,” Otterton said in an unsteady voice even as Swinton unfastened his cuffs and ushered him towards the door. “I’m even more so now.”

    “All part of the job,” she said, running her paws over her ears. Paws that were shaking lightly as she turned to find the otter watching her from the door. She caught sight of the camera in the hallway, and frowning turned her gaze towards the one in the room with them. The red indicator told her that the camera was still active. She frowned slightly as she murmured, “There are cameras.”

    “It seems someone would rather see me dead than free,” he said, his tone as shaken as her paws when their gazes met.

    “And someone wanted it seen,” she said, the statement directed more at Nick than Otterton as she turned to face the fox. When his expression went from a sort of calm annoyance after the attack to curious, she continued, “Media cameras during the first attack, the cameras outside of the DMV, and now a prison with around the clock video surveillance. Why would someone want the attacks recorded?”

    “The moths,” Nick replied as he moved to stand beside her as they were motioned out by the guard kneeling beside the unconscious lion. "They might be trying to spread the flame."


	19. Conspiratio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Update! Comic Update! 
> 
> For some reason the link to the comic won't embed itself, so I am just going to past it here: https://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-18-1-Conspiratio-735706490
> 
>  
> 
>  

    Watching him move around the office with the purpose of searching every room made her very aware of how quickly things could change in a life. In her first day in Zootopia, she had found the way he checked every corner of the tiny office to be ridiculous. Even after the encounter with the tiger, which some stubborn voice in her mind had quietly tried to convince her was an isolated incident, she had found his desire to keep the doors open simply overbearing. Bordering on creepy, if she was completely honest with herself. Now, as he reached the final step in his search and went down on one knee in front of her desk to check under it... If he had done that on the first day, she had no doubt she would have rolled her eyes and complained.

    Now, she simply stood and waited until he rose and gave her a quick nod. “All clear, Carrots.”

    “No wiretaps under the desk then?” she asked, though her tone was playful rather than annoyed.

    “Bombs,” he said simply, walking over to what she now thought of as his chair in front of the desk, shrugging the jacket from his shoulders and tossing it over the back.

    “What?” she asked blankly as her ears dropped, not quite able to quickly process exactly what he was suggesting.

    “No bombs,” he said, sitting and resting his elbows on his knees, paws folded in front of him as he looked at her. “The wolves were a tactical unit. A good tactical unit is trained in explosives.”

    “Great,” she muttered after her brain caught up with her, causing her stomach to sink as fear trickled down her spine. She felt jittery all over again, which annoyed her after she had so effectively managed to save Otterton’s life earlier that day. She walked around the desk and dropped her briefcase on top of it before sinking into her chair. “Something else to worry about.”

    “You let  _me_ worry about things like that,” he said, his voice holding that professional edge that he had begun to shed when talking to her recently. Somehow, it made her feel a little better. Something about the stern certainty in that voice, a voice that now came with steely green eyes unshaded by sunglasses. It was a simple reminder that he was very aware of the danger and, as he had been doing since she’d entered the city, he would protect her.

    Bolstered by this, she released a slow breath, perked her ears and gave a quick nod before she popped open the briefcase. “I have a lot of information to go over now,” she said calmly, setting her notepad beside it before she pulled out the flash card that had been quietly in the corner of her mind for a long time. “I realize that most of what I have here will be inadmissible as evidence if it is helpful at all.”

    “Because it was obtained illegally?” he asked, easily unbuckling his shoulder holsters and carefully hanging them from the back of the chair so that the guns and baton were still within easy reach.

    “Yes, and it goes without saying that I wouldn’t be able to give my source for verification,” she said, slowly turning the tiny disk in her fingers as she stared down at it. “But if I can use some of the information here to verify what I already know, then I’ll be able to build a stronger case of doubt without ever showing the actual evidence. Or it could lead me somewhere to gather more evidence.”

    “Then why are you hesitating?” he asked, causing a frown to crease her muzzle.

    “I’m not sure,” she said, gazing at the drive for a moment longer before shaking it off and turning to the computer. “Flash said that you would know how to access the files here and in the e-mail he sent?”

    “Hm,” he replied, his head cocked to the side as he looked at her curiously. “Did he? He didn’t set you up on your own account?”

    “Was he supposed to?” the bunny replied, lavender eyes following him as he rose from the chair and walked around the desk. She forced herself to remain perfectly still, which took some effort when he leaned over the desk beside her to look at the e-mail she’d pulled up. It surprised her, how much she wanted to lean into him, though she was forced to wonder why it surprised her after how close they had been on more than one occasion.

    “I’ve never known him to create a joint account,” he commented, his voice easy even as she felt her heart speed up. For a moment, she almost considered holding her breath when his scent washed over her, then silently berated herself for acting like an idiot. He lived in the office with her. His scent was all over the place, including drifting around her in a delightfully heady way as he tapped away at the keyboard.

    She managed to focus on the fact that his claws were tapping on the keyboard as he looked at an e-mail that didn’t even seem to have an attachment included. ‘Make your fur lustrous and Bright! For only 12.23!’ was the subject, from an address that seemed like little more than an assortment of letters and numbers. Typical spam. She was about to question him when the horrible ad in the body of the Email pixelated and started to fade, displaying an entirely different message.

     _Nick,_

     _As always, you have one minute to download the attachment and enter the password. Failing that, everything will be deleted and the normal recovery fee will apply._

     _F_

    She felt a little skitter of panic. “One minute?”

    He didn’t reply, only calmly typed in a series of commands, commands that were completely lost on her, that caused the file to start downloading. “Don’t think I’m a computer genius or anything,” he commented at her look, giving her a toothy grin, “I’ve just done this a few times already.”

    “The mystery deepens,” she deadpanned, turning her eyes away from the orange and cream that continued to tempt her and watched as he double-clicked the file that now sat on her desktop. When he started to enter the password, which seemed to stretch on forever, she tilted her head. “With all of this security, shouldn’t the password change rather than using the same one every time?”

    “It changes,” he said, seeming to pause for a moment before he added the last four keystrokes that caused the file to open. Or in this case, extract itself. “How it changes and how I know the change is my little secret.”

    “Uh huh,” she said, rolling her eyes slightly as she took the mouse and opened the folder. The number of files inside was staggering, considering the limited subject matter, and she stared at the list in silence for a long moment before she saw a file named ‘NickSuit’. She wasn’t oblivious to the fact that name recognition had drawn her eyes to the file, and after a quick glance at Nick, who didn’t seem to have noticed it himself, she double-clicked.

    When she opened the file, it took her a moment to realize that she was looking at a receipt of sorts. Handwritten, sloppy, but legible enough for her to get the gist of it:

 _Tailor fitted suit_  
Graphene lined shirt/pants x2  
Second Kevlar lined jacket on request  
carbon fiber insulation on all

_$150,000 est_

_Nick P_

    She stared at it for a long moment with her muzzle open a fraction. The price was outrageous, and while her experience in these things was limited to almost nothing, the mention of Kevlar at least told her that this was exactly what she was looking at. An order for body armor. One-hundred-and-fifty- _thousand_ Bucks worth of body armor. As much the price was the date of the receipt, as printed, was the day after she had received the call and accepted his offer of protection.

    Her wide eyes turned to him, seeing his frown turning his muzzle low as he looked at the receipt as a sure sign that he had not intended for her to know about the ludicrous amount of money spent.

    “We still haven’t talked about how I am supposed to pay you,” she said from a suddenly dry mouth, a number of questions running through her mind so quickly that she couldn’t grasp on long enough to settle on one.

    “No, we haven’t,” he said simply, tapping the arrow key on the keyboard quickly to move to the next image.

    She stared at him for a moment longer, wondering if he was going to say something else, only to be met with silence. Opening her mouth to question him further, she stopped when she glanced at the screen. A little ‘huh’ escaped her as she leaned in close to look at the picture of the crime scene, the outline of where the body had been, and the bloodstain on the floor, taken from an angle she hadn’t seen in the case file. It was also slightly grainy, low resolution, which made her think it had come from someone’s phone rather than a professional forensic photographer. She looked back when she realized that he was crouching beside her chair, leaving him at eye level with her as he looked over the image.

     “Where did he get this? Who took this?” she asked, frowning slightly as she clicked the button to show the next image. It was another of the crime scene, something that told her there was likely an obvious order to the files in the folders.

    “Questions like that will make this take forever. If I expected he would send you things you had already seen, I wouldn’t have taken you to see him in the first place,” he added, tilting his head at an image that appeared to be Otterton himself climbing into his car in front of a building he didn’t recognize. “We’ve already established that a lot of this is probably illegal.”

    “Yeah,” she said as her ears lowered. For a moment she almost considered just deleting the files, tossing the flash drive, and keeping her path straightforward. She stopped when the next image on the list was a closeup of the bloodstain on the carpet. Squinting, she leaned in closer. There was the faint discoloration in the shape of what might have been the knife, along with faint,  tiny claw marks in the blood. “Do you see that?”

    “Yeah,” he said, his own eyes narrowed as he stared at the image with her. “It looks like someone picked up the knife.”

    “Which could mean the assumption in the police report that Otterton held the knife the entire time was false,” she said, her earlier trepidation about where the files had come from vanishing as her ears perked up. She snatched the notepad and pulled out her carrot pen as she scribbled quickly. “I’ll have to review the existing images in the case files, see if I can find an angle that shows this, even faintly.”

    “That was quick,” he said, one brow raised as he gave her a slightly amused look. “So, we’re done here?”

    “It doesn’t prove anything either way,” she said, her mind distracted as she noted the file name and time stamp. “But anything that goes against what was force-fed through the trial is progress. But the images can wait. I want to see what’s on this flash drive.”

    The routine repeated itself the moment she accessed the flash drive, though this instead of a junk mail cover, a couple of videos were all that showed on the drive. Her ears burned hot when she browsed the names as he started to type the information.  _ReynHARD, Lusty Lunar Lapins,_ and  _Deep in the Burrows_ jumped out at her from the list, causing her to cast a cautious glance towards Nick. A glance that she found returned with a smirk that caused her skin to heat under her fur before she released a short burst of laughter.

    “Not something most mammals would want to poke around in, I suppose,” she admitted, watching as the file names started to rearrange themselves into less direct files names. The one that instantly caught her attention was the audio file called ‘Dbel’. She waved his paws aside with an almost playful wave of one of her own, earning a slow grin from him as she reached for the mouse and double clicked it. “I’ve been wondering what this was.”

     _“I’m not sure why I keep doing these personal journals,”_ came the somewhat familiar voice of Chief Justice Dawn Bellwether, “ _But sometimes they help to clear my head, I guess. It has been… a month since my last entry and a lot has happened. Leodore continues to be all the distraction I need. He remains ever the talkative one until given other things to do with his mouth, but I’m not sure what I would do without him…”_

    “I knew I smelled sheep,” Nick muttered, the idea that Nick presented and the words from the lambs own mouth causing Judy to silently groan. Thankfully, the Chief Justice didn’t linger on the subject before she moved on.

    “ _What is on my mind today? Well, that’s easy. One Judith Laverne Hopps, from Bunnyburrow. Anyone in law has heard of her. The first bunny to willingly, and successfully, defend a fox outside of Zootopia in a murder trial since the city became a bunny free zone. Here to oversee the appeal of Emmitt Otterton. I’ll admit that, at first, I considered her a token. Some attempt to show that there are still some favorable relations between the mammals of Zootopia and the bunnies of The Commonwealth. That was until she started to speak._

     _“I don’t know what I expected then, or honestly what I expect now. If she was meant to be a token, she’s not playing the part assigned to her. I don’t recognize that fox who stood beside her while she presented her case for an appeal, but I do know that she wasn’t being used as a mouthpiece. Her words were compelling, even accusing towards the state of law in this city. Even without Leodore’s request that I accept the appeal, I don’t believe I had any other choice after hearing her point out every flaw in our justice system so plainly. And if nothing else, I do believe that justice, and the law, must win in the end. Others obviously don’t agree with me as I learned only moments ago that there was an attempt to kill Hopps. Which leads me to further questions, ones that I won’t voice here. I would wish her luck if that were proper, but I still have my oath to remain impartial. If she can prove her case, then it will be proven and my ruling will be appropriate. If she can’t… Well, at least here I can wish her luck.”_

    She sat in silence for a moment, at first trying to make sense of why the recording was sent in the first place. Soon that question was gone as she listened, digesting the words in shared silence with the patient fox beside her. That the entirety of the system in Zootopia wasn’t corrupted was not a revelation to her. There would always be those with good intentions and those who understood that any system was only as good as those who upheld it. But in this, there was the feeling that the one who would hear her appeal would take the evidence as what it was: an attempt to find the truth. It eased something inside of her, an ease that was almost physical as she released a slow breath.

    “You all right?”

    “Yeah,” she said, offering a slight smile that she was sure reached her eyes. She felt it. Determination mingled now with a little spark of hope. “She’ll listen. Now I just need to find enough to make what I say mean something.”

    She hadn’t realized that her paw was still on the mouse until she felt his rest over it. Rough pads and large fingers were gentle as he guided her, and the mouse, over the next video on the list.

    “Then we keep looking,” he said, causing her smile to return and turn a little wobbly when he pressed her finger down on the pointer twice quickly, “Until we find what you need.”

    That he was helping her, rather than just being a silent figure in the corner watching over her as she had expected him to be, gave her the compulsion to hug him. That he was incredibly hot, incredibly close, and smelled so incredibly  _male_  made her want to climb all over him and forget that he was a fox and she was a bunny. The middle ground, in a mind that was more relaxed and happy than it had been since she had decided to come to Zootopia, was a kiss. Close as he was now, his muzzle turned towards her and his ears erect, she could feel his breath whisper over her lips. She had never been compelled on so basic a level as she was when she looked into his eyes, felt his paw lightly squeeze onto hers as the distance closed of her own accord…

    The burst of static from the computer caused her to jump, snapping her out of the trance of her own making as she glanced at the screen with a nervous little titter of laughter. “Right, keep looking until we…”

    She trailed off when she saw the gas station that was so often mentioned in the reports, her mind instantly returning to the task at hand even if her hormones were currently trying to wage a war in her blood. It wasn’t a good view, either. It looked like a recording from a wide-angle security camera set down the street, probably a few buildings down and across the street. From the time stamp, it had been recorded on the day of the night. In the lot of the gas station, she could clearly see the rear end of a ZPD patrol car illuminated by the overhead lights, obscured largely by the gas station itself. While she couldn’t see the car number, from the testimony and the fact that it was night, she could assume that she was looking at Weaselton and Fangmeyer’s car.

    “Well, we can confirm that they were there like they said,” Nick commented, then narrowed his eyes and squinted as another, smaller vehicle pulled into the lot. “And that might be…”

     Nodding in agreement to the statement he didn’t finish, she watched the tiny shadow of a mammal jump down from his car and hurry into the gas station. There was no actual visual confirmation, the quality was too poor and he was in the shadows of the gas station itself, but the car matched the model he drove. And the time stamp on the recording put it at 9:55 pm.

    She felt a hard rush of professional excitement that almost managed to wash away her awareness of the fox who was watching her very much like the predator he was.

    “This is it! There might be more in here, but this might be what I really need,” she said excitedly as she paused the video. “This is why the ZPD was so quick to respond because the unit was just down the street. But the call reporting the disturbance came in at 9:54 pm, saying there was angry shouting. If that is Otterton, there is no way he could have murder his wife, cleaned himself up afterward and gone to the gas station in less than a minute. It would take him longer than that to make the drive to his house. And even if he did manage to time it somehow, why would he have returned to the scene of the crime?”

    “You need the receipt,” he commented, resting his forearm on the desktop so he could lean closer to her. A motion that she was completely aware of, even as she took her notepad and took some more notes. Enjoying how close he was, she didn’t try to move away or change the subject. Instead, she grinned at him.

    “Look at you. A bodyguard and an investigator,” she said, her tone playful as she tapped the pen against the notepad while looking him up and down in a way that caused his brow to quirk. “You have been paying attention. Looking to be a lawyer now?”

    “And spend my time in a tiny office all day?” he huffed lightly, a smirk climbing his muzzle as he returned the favor by giving her a once-over before he replied. “How dare you.”

    “But you’re right,” she said after a light laugh, still smiling as she set the pen and pad down. “But we can’t go out looking for it now. It’s either in the impound or it’s been auctioned off, and that information won’t be available until morning. Failing that, or including that, I need to find the stoat that was running the register. Thank you, Nick.”

    “It wasn’t much,” he said after a moment of surprise at the sudden gratitude, giving a little shrug. “There is still a lot to go over.”

    “Yeah,” she said, reaching out to slide her finger down the length of his tie slowly, her eyes on his until she saw them go dark and heated when she ran one finger down the front of his shirt. A chest that she then poked, nudging him back an inch as he blinked in surprise. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten the  _other_ receipt I saw. We need to talk about some things, and soon, Mr. Graphene Lined Shirt.”

    “Of course, you haven’t,” he muttered as they turned back to the screen.

* * *

 

    Meetings with the Council. Incredibly important, though not for the reason many members of the Council believed. The Administrator wasn’t even thinking about them as the elevator silently and uncommonly slowly descended, instead using the pad in her paw to review the latest news articles that involved one as of yet un-named fox. An attack in prison. Another daring rescue of both the bunny and the prisoner. Another leak to the press. The fact that no one knew his name didn’t surprise her in the slightest. In fact, she very much doubted anyone would be able to find anything more on him than the fact that he appeared like a phantom when Miss Hopps came to Zootopia. Even she had not been prepared for his coming, so the fact that there were whispers of Yurei within certain dangerous circles of the city seemed apt.

    Without more information to go on, there was a good deal of speculation by the press, some seen as she swiped the screen to the next news organization, ZNN. None of it was confirmed or commented on by herself or the Council, of course. But the glaring question on the front page of the site ‘A Hero in Zootopia?’ sat above yet another leaked picture of the handsome Todd easily dismantling a larger, and armed, predator inside of the prison meant that it wasn’t something that could be ignored by the government forever. How, and if, she should spin it was something she was still considering. Not that she expected Nick would ever stand in front of a camera, shaking Lionheart’s paw in a glorified photo shoot, but there were ways to make it seem as if everything was business as usual without actually trying to bring him into the fold.

    She tapped the screen of the pad in her paw, locking the screen when found the sand fox standing just outside of the elevator with his arms folded behind his back, dark eyes sparkling as he gave a slight bow upon seeing her. The flick of her ears and the surprised pleasure on her face was faux, something that she was sure he knew as well as she did.

    “Andrew, darling,” she said, her muzzle spreading in a pleasant smile as she stepped out and immediately past him. He fell into step with her, respectfully one step behind, as she kept walking towards the Council Chamber. “I assume everyone is gathered.”

    “Of course, Administrator,” he said, the low hum of his voice keeping with the somewhat amused tone that told her he knew that she hadn’t been asking a question. “They are eager to discuss the recent developments, not the least of which is filling the void left by General Valter.”

    “There will be the standard election, of course,” she replied simply, keeping her pace steady even as she saw the holographic walls of the Chamber come into view. The members of the Council itself had been more than eager to allow her to redesign it, once she had made it clear that it would make them the most advanced and envied government body in the world. Currently, the relaxing canopy of trees that ringed the room sang with the unobtrusive but constant songs of birds and the gentle whisper of the waterfall. These were all clearly made of light, being partially transparent, but the effect would and often did change depending on the mood of those within. Particularly hers. “But there is no rush to fill his seat, is there? He was such a  _dear_  friend and there are no pressing matters of governance that would require a full voting body.”

    She doubted that he had missed her tone when she had called him a friend, as loose as the term might have been. “Of course, forgive my lack of compassion in what must have been a horrible loss for you,” he said, and though she didn’t look back she was certain she could hear a hint of a smirk in his voice. “I know he was one of the first to endorse your position as Administrator, along with myself. Though we shouldn’t wait too long to put forward candidates for the election. The rest of the Council will not be so understanding if we find ourselves at a standstill because of a deadlocked vote.”

    “There may be someone on the Council willing to abstain from important votes until the political climate would welcome new candidates,” she commented, pausing for a moment as she turned to look back at him. “We will have to consider that they will be the future leader of the armed forces in Zootopia, after all.”

    “I would be willing to abstain for the time being,” he said, causing her to fully halt her steps and raise her eyes to his face with a small smile playing over her muzzle as he continued, “and take over the burden of his considerable administrative duties in the interim.”

     _So humble,_ was her thought, though having known the male for most of her life, she didn’t buy it for a moment. But it was a part of her position to be paranoid.

    “That would be a weight lifted, Andrew,” she said, warming her voice as she glanced towards the chamber ahead. Her platform was just beyond the waterfall now and even over the birdsong and babble of water, she could hear the Councilors growing restless. Ignoring it, she turned her attention back to him. “I will have the proper administrative powers transferred to you after the meeting is completed, though I see no reason to burden you with command of the armed forces themselves. Nathanial was experienced, and a transfer of leadership at this point would unsettle those who served under him. For the time being, I will retain silent command and deal directly with the generals myself.”

    The broadly furred male opened his muzzle as if to offer protest, then closed it with a slow nod.

    “Whatever you think is best, Neveen,” he said, his own ears flicking towards the Chamber again before he waved a paw for her to continue. “I assure you, I will take care of everything. And I can’t fathom that the other Councilors would argue with having my vote temporarily removed from matters of law.”

    “No, I don’t image they will,” she said, a coy grin playing over her muzzle before she turned and made her way to the waterfall.

    The light shimmered around her as she stepped inside once they parted ways, pausing for a moment while inside to allow Andrew time to reach his place before she stepped out onto the podium that overlooked the Seat of The Council. The moment she left the water, the room started to change. The peaceful wilderness setting melted away, rippling as walls seemed to solidify around the room. Elegant oriental craftsmanship flowed outward from her place at the head of the table, dark-toned wood in vibrant reds circling the table now. The curves and lines suited her, pleased her, as did the spires of the Zootopian flag that became her backdrop as she faced those on the Council.

    Without Valter, there were now eight mammals sitting around the table. There was a sort of balance to it now, one that had not really existed before. Four foxes of various species, three representatives of the prey species, including the good Doctor Lyndon, and a lioness to balance the larger predator votes. They all grew still and silent with her appearance, whatever their species, and she looked over them with a cool eye. Like Valter, most of them still believed themselves to be far more important than they were on the road to remaking Zootopia. It was, perhaps, time that she gave them a small reminder of that.

    “Good morning. It is a pleasure to see you all again,” she said, her voice pleasant enough as she swept her golden gaze over each one of them. Then her muzzle curved in a smile that was as cold and hard as those eyes as she nodded. “We have a lot to cover today. But let us begin by talking about the bunny.”

 


	20. The Devil of Devon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update has arrived! Do enjoy as the plot thickens. More coming as soon as possible.
> 
>  
> 
> [Comic by TheWyvernsWeaver](https://www.deviantart.com/art/Sunderance-Chapter-19-2-The-Devil-of-Devon-743503765)
> 
>  

    “Pardon me, Administrator,” came a deeply masculine voice, drawing her sparkling gaze to the large white-tailed stag who sat regally above the foxes nearest to him. He met her gaze and tilted his antlered head in a slight bow when she nodded for him to continue. “While I think most of us agree that the lawyer is of interest to the Council, shouldn’t we begin with the topic of our fallen member? There have been no leads, no claims of responsibility, and no seeming reason for the sudden move against the Council.”

    The vixen gave him a warm smile that she reserved for those who she enjoyed having seated at what was her table. That he had spoken first was not unexpected. A natural leader, Frederick was, and one who saw a need for balance in all things. She was sure that was why he also called Hopps ‘the lawyer’ rather than ‘the bunny’ as she had and was sure most of the Council would. They would do so either because they saw themselves as better or because she had started by calling her that.

    “The two seem to be directly connected, wouldn’t you think, Bardsley?” she said, her voice easily reaching the ears of all in the room even though she didn’t raise it. That was mostly because there was no sound aside from her voice when she spoke. “I don’t think it can be called a coincidence that Nathaniel was so suddenly cut down so shortly after the bunny arrived in this city. And it certainly isn’t a coincidence that the tiger our entire city saw trying to murder Miss Hopps was, at one time, under the command of the departed general. That was before he was a Councilor of course, but the tie still remains.”

    “You think Valter sent an assassin after the bunny?” said the smallish fox with sandy fur, one paw pressed to the table as he leaned forward. She read his expression as confused and doubtful, with just enough sarcasm in his tone to make the fur on the back of her neck itch slightly.

    “I have sent you all the information on the matter, McArthur,” she said easily, sweeping one paw, pads facing up, towards them. “Feel free to browse the information after the meetings and send me your thoughts.”

    “Well, so what if he did?” he pressed, causing her amiable expression to harden slightly as she returned her gaze to him. He was not oblivious to this fact and quickly eased the tone of his words when he continued. “If he did send the assassin after the bunny, then I think we have a suspect in his own assassination: whoever this mystery fox is.”

    “Is that right?” she said, her voice bland as she lowered her gaze to her paw for a moment to examine one perfectly manicured claw. Imagining her lack of interest was causing the insides of his ears to burn right about now, she raised her eyes to meet the disconcerted gaze of the male again after a moment. She flicked her claw, as one might flick away an annoying flea before she placed the paws on the podium and leaned towards the Council as a whole. “Have any of you seen the morning news?”

    “Yes, Administrator,” McArthur grunted, leaning back in his seat as the rest gave their own nods and murmurs of acknowledgment.

    “Then you know the reputation this mysterious fox has made for himself,” she said, raising her voice half an octave as she looked from one to the other. “A hero in our midst. Savior of the city’s only rabbit visitor. No one knows who he is or where he came from, save for the fact that he has attached himself to Hopps, openly protected her, and made himself as close to a folk hero as you can get in this modern era.”

    “That does not directly absolve him of possible guilt,” Diana said, the tone speculative as the lioness watched her closely. A fact which made her smile as she straightened herself from the podium and gave a slow shrug.

    “Of course. The fact remains, the ban on bunnies in Zootopia has never been the most popular act of the government,” she continued as she stepped away from the podium and started to slowly walk around the table. They all followed her with their eyes, even those who were forced to turn in their seats uncomfortably to do so. “While we can all agree it was necessary at the time, many call it a stain on the government. A stain that some mammals are still looking to us to correct. Just like many see the conviction of Otterton to be a stain on our justice system.”

    “Is that why you invited the lawyer into the city?” Bardsley asked, his posture still regal as he was one of the few on the Council large enough to make no effort more than following her with his eyes.

    “I saw too many stains. You could call the bunny an olive branch to those who still don’t agree with the ban on bunnies. Along with that, I invited her into the city to possibly correct what far too many see a miscarriage of justice, which adds leaves to that branch. And yet, the moment she entered the city someone tried to have her killed. Someone almost managed to add another stain.”

    She paused her steps at the far end of the chamber, the forest before her shimmering and changing until she was looking out a wide window to a view of the city below. The fact that the image itself was a holographic projection of what was outside of the tower didn’t matter; it represented what was on her mind. The glory of the rising towers, shining in the early morning sun as the mammals of the city started to move about their lives. The beauty of Tundra town, frozen and white, turning into the smoldering sandbox of Sahara Square. The two districts were about the balance between the two. The massive refrigeration units draining the heat from one side of the wall and releasing that heat through coils and vents to keep the air on the other side dry and hot. She had to ensure that the balance within the Council chamber remained so perfectly synced.

    “You were elected because I wanted you on the Council: each and every one of you. You all have qualities that make you ideal for your positions because I don’t tolerate incompetence,” she said, her voice taking on an edge of ice as she turned to face them with the balance of the city behind her. “My own Councilors will not be allowed to act against the betterment of this city because they think it will benefit them to do so. You would all do well to remember that.”

    The silence that followed was a heavy one, one she showed them did not affect her in the slightest as she started the walk back towards her podium. As she watched the uncomfortable but silent glances they cast towards one another, it was not hard to imagine their minds working over her words. Trying to determine if they had been a threat or even an admission of her part in the demise of the member of her Council whose foolishness had ended with a knife at his throat. Of course, they would never question her. And she was sure that most of them, for the sake of keeping their comfortable places of power in the upper levels of The Tower high above the city, wouldn’t even risk voicing their concerns to each other. But the effect was clear when she stood above them again, her gaze drifting from one to the other. From the smallest fox to the largest lioness, and even the regal white-tailed deer with his impressive rack, they all looked on with a distinctive silence that told her she was at least partly understood.

    There would be no more questions from them about Valter.

    “Very good,” she said, spreading her paws out in front of her in a gesture of welcoming and even forgiveness. She was benevolent when obeyed if nothing else. “Now to address the lawyer and her companion. Unless evidence comes to light that says otherwise, it will be assumed that he had no part in the assassination of Councilor Valter. In fact, for the good of the city and the stability of its population, any questions fielded on that subject will be answered with the truth: there is no evidence that he was involved and while we do not know his identity, he is doing the will of the Council, if not by order at least in spirit.”

    Their only reply this time came in the silent nods of accent.

    “Good,” she continued, tilted her head slightly as she considered the idea that anyone on the Council might find out the true identity of the Todd. It was extremely doubtful. “We will treat him as the hero the people seem to want him to be and afford Miss Hopps every courtesy and comfort our city has to offer for her stay. That will, in the short term, pacify those who are still calling out for our gates to be open to The Commonwealth.”

    “Won’t the people see it as strange?” The speaker this time was Andrew, who was reclined in his chair with his paws laced together over his neat suit jacket. “That you are allowing a fox who is not under your direct control to run free in the city with someone so important?”

    “Considering how heroic he seems after the attack at the prison, most won’t even be focused on that. But make no mistake,” she continued, her face as cool as the ice sheet of Tundra Town, “just because he is not directly under my control doesn’t mean he’s outside of its reach.”

* * *

 

    He still wasn’t used to this sort of exposure. Particularly when he was standing in the impound lot not far from the ZPD, with a chain link fence the only thing between his back and a very open street. He had been in the ZPD building and even the jail system in the past week, but neither of those had felt as exposed as this. Even when he had been walking beside her while leaving the courthouse; or when she had stood in the open talking to Lionheart; or going for ice cream. Maybe it was the fact that they had been standing here for almost twenty minutes, the bunny beside him calmly filling out the forms that seemed obnoxiously long.

    He was pretty sure she had been made to write her name down at least six times.

    “All right, Miss Hopps, it looks like everything is in order,” the boar who maintained the impound lot grunted after he examined the pages carefully, twice. “The car is in lot 112 currently. Keys are here.”

    “Thank you, officer,” she said, keeping her tone and her expression neutral.

    Nick thought she was trying to keep it professional because he could see her tail twitching and her ears tremble when she reached up to take the key from the large mammal. She was excited and had been since waking that morning. Energetic and ready to get moving before the sun finished its rise over the city skyline. Having to fill out a barrel of forms had not changed that much and he was pretty sure she would have run through the lot like a kit at an amusement park if she hadn’t been on the clock.

    “Ninety-nine, one hundred,” she counted aloud, causing him to grin as she started to speed up, forcing him to reach out to place a restraining paw on her shoulder.

    “We’ll get there, Carrots,” he murmured, shrugging at the annoyed expression when she turned lavender eyes to him. “As much as they want you to believe otherwise, just because we’re on government property doesn’t mean we’re safe. The prison was proof enough of that.”

    A small sigh was her only reply, though she did slow her pace as the counted down the last dozen lots before reaching the now very familiar chocolate brown car. At this point, he couldn’t have held her back if he’d wanted to. She bolted away from him and towards the car with surprising speed, instantly had the key in the lock, and was yanking the door open before he’d even had a chance to make sure there were no surprises hidden within. Slightly thankful when none arrived, he simply sighed and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle under his sunglasses for a moment before he walked over to lean against the hood while she had a look through the car.

    “How many places can a receipt hide?” she muttered to herself, drawing his gaze. She had taken off her jacket and was currently crawling around on her hands and knees in the back seat. While the view was appreciated, he could hear the annoyance in her voice when she continued. “If someone removed the receipt and didn’t submit it as evidence for the trial, that will make this a lot harder. Nick, let me borrow your stick.”

    That last part had him blinking slightly, one brow quirking high enough to be seen over the frame of his sunglasses as she sat on her knees in the back seat. “My stick?”

    “Your baton, then.” She grumbled in annoyance and stuck her paw towards the door expectantly. A few minutes of searching and the paw that she held out towards him was already dirty. “I can’t reach between the seats here.”

    “Look, cottontail, you can’t just take my baton and jam it between the seats like some… Stick,” he said as an uncommon indignation rise at the very idea of the weapon being used as a hunting tool in some otter’s car. He was about to continue when the cell phone in her coat pocket started to ring. Thankful for the distraction, he frowned to himself and holding the top of the door with one paw leaned forward as she dug out her phone.

    “This is Hopps,” she said, her tone somewhere between friendly and professional. His eyes instantly narrowed, and he leaned closer when she cast a startled look in his direction, her nose twitching twice as her brow creased and she sat up straighter. “What do you mean you have it? Who is this?”

    He didn’t bother to ask who is was. Her sudden confused tension has the fur on the back of his neck standing on end as she held his eyes, her expression shifting between confused to annoyed as she opened her mouth to speak again. When she stopped and closed it, he frowned when she held the phone in his direction.

    “She wants to talk to ‘the mystery fox.’ She says she has the receipt.”

    His frown flatted to a cool expression as he took the phone from her and stood upright as he placed it to his ear. “Speak carefully,” he warned in a low, emotionless tone.

    “And the first words directed at me are so forceful,” the feminine voice on the other end of the call said, causing him to twitch slightly when what he could have easily called a pleased sigh escaped the speaker. “Alright, Hero. I have what you need, and I have what the bunny wants. If you want what I have, you’re going to meet me for a little chat. Just the two of us, sans bunny.”

    “Not going to happen.”

    “Well, that’s not very nice. I just want to have a talk, get to know the fox behind the bunny,” the voice continued, a familiar one that tickled at the back of his mind until it dawned on him who he was talking to. “It’s such a small price to pay for such an important item.”

    “We do need it,” he admitted, though the tone of his voice didn’t change as he spoke, watched Judy as she stepped out of the car and stood facing him with a worriedly curious expression, “but meeting me alone is out of the question.”

    “Look, I’m not trying to trick you or anything,” came the voice, though Nick was only half listening now as Judy waved both arms until he tapped the screen to mute the phone.

    “Who is she? Does she have it? If she wants to meet, then meet her!”

    “It’s a reporter. She wants to meet me alone,” he said dryly as the voice of said reporter droned in his ear. “Which isn’t going to happen because you go where I go, remember?”

    “I need that receipt, Nick,” she said, obviously trying to keep her tone from showing the annoyance in her eyes. It was the same annoyance he had seen when he had refused to let her close the bathroom door her first day in the city. “There has to be somewhere safe you can leave me. With Flash, maybe. He has a bunker, after all.”

    “Flash is an information broker, not a bunny sitter,” he muttered, holding up his paw when she narrowed her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. Plus, a squad of hit-mammals was already sent after you there. It may be under surveillance.”

    “Well, there has to be somewhere you can leave me where you know I’ll be safe. You didn’t become ‘the mystery fox’ without hideouts,” she said, placing her paws on her hips as she stood facing him with a no-bullshit expression on her face. He was pretty sure this was because his reluctantly annoyed expression told her that he knew exactly the place. “Nick,  _I need that receipt._ ”

    “I know…” He hesitated and frowned at the phone before he unmuted the line when the female on the other end asked if he was still there. He unmuted it for a moment to say, “Hold on.

    “I know someone. But it’s not somewhere I think you would want to visit,” he explained, dropping the phone to his side. “For any reason.”

    “As long as it keeps me safe while  _you_ go get the receipt, I don’t care if it’s in the sewers. You do still work for me, right?” she added, making him roll his eyes skyward. Determined bunny. And a snarky one he found when he lowered his shaded eyes to her again and saw her smug expression. Clearly, she knew she had won already. “So, do you know a place or not?”

    “Yes,” he ground out before he raised the phone to his ear and released a slow sigh. “You have a deal. You name the place, as long as the time is tonight.”

    He had never seen such a satisfied expression on the face of the bunny as the one she gave then, along with a whispered little “Yes,” when she slammed the door of the car closed.

    Nick was wondering how long that expression would linger when she realized where exactly he was going to leave her.

* * *

 

    The vixen held the cell phone in her snowy white paw for a moment, gently squeezing and relaxing her fingers as she stared at the screen in a mild state of shock. He had agreed to meet her. A time and place had been set, and she was going to meet him that very night. That mysterious, strong, handsome figure that she had been trying to get even a whiff of information on for a week without success was going to be standing in front of her. Where she could question him, try to get a read on him, decide if he was the hero she had portrayed him as in her article.

    Not that it really mattered, she decided as she finally placed the phone on her desk again and rocked back in her deep leather office chair. She would portray him as a hero because it would sell. Her most recent article had sold more hard copies of the newspaper than anyone had seen in years, not to mention the insane number of online views. Everyone wanted to know about the fox and the bunny he followed; a fox and bunny both who were not following the present archetypes for their species in any way. They both made for a good story, considering that Hopps was the only one of her kind in the city. But she had her own reasons for wanting to know more about the Todd, not all of them purely professional. Not all of them pure in the slightest, as a matter of fact.

    “You should be careful,” came a voice, one that didn’t surprise her out of her thoughts just as they had started to turn lustful. It simply made her focus on the similarly white-furred male who stood at her office door, one of his paws resting on her door frame. The powder blue suit and dark tie that he always wore in the office was lacking the jacket at the moment, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Sharp eyes over a dark nose and untrimmed whiskers made him a pleasant enough specimen to look at, though she considered herself too far out of his league to do more than look. The expression on his pleasant face was one of calm concern. “You don’t know anything about him.”

    “You shouldn’t eavesdrop, boss,” she muttered, sniffing slightly as she plucked her phone from her desk again and grabbed her purse. She would need to change clothes. Something more appealing to a spectacular male, rather than the typical day clothes she wore to titillate her sources. “It’s not polite.”

    “Yeah, well your name might be on this particular door, but my name is on the building,” he said, turning to allow her to pass when she slipped through the door. He was a news mammal, after all. He wasn’t in the habit of standing in the way of a story. “Just be careful. We already know he’s killed at least one mammal and there are some people you don’t want to hold out on. You can call him a hero on paper, but don’t expect to be treated like a damsel when you have what he needs and refuse to give it. And I’m not talking about…”

    “Yes, Andy,” she said, rolling her eye skyward for a moment as she paused and turned to face him. “I just want a look at him. I’m not going to push him any further than he’s willing to go. He’ll get what he wants tonight.”

    He looked less than convinced. Maybe because she hadn’t been able to keep the sultry little grin from spreading over her muzzle, though he replied with a nod before she turned and made her way to the elevator.

    “Watch your tail,” she heard him say as she pushed the button to take her down, turning as the doors started to close, “but get me a story.”

    Her sultry smile turned more than a little predatory when the doors closed between them.

 


	21. In the Hall of the Mountain King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20 has arrived! Do enjoy.
> 
> [Find the comic here!](https://thewyvernsweaver.deviantart.com/art/Chapter-20-2-In-the-Hall-of-the-Mountain-King-749494984)

    They changed cars three times in fifteen minutes.

    She had seen this sort of thing happen in the movies but had never expected to be doing it herself. They returned to the office to give her a chance to collect anything she might have needed to continue investigating on her own while he was gone, a time during which he had made a phone call that even her sensitive ears picked up as light muttering. After announcing that she had everything she needed and following him outside again, she had been surprised to find that the car waiting outside wasn’t the same one they had been driving around in for the past week. Instead, it was a car designed for a mammal larger than Nick - maybe a lion or some other big cat – painted cherry red and modified with a seat lift and extended pedals to allow him to drive it with relative ease.

    Three blocks later, in the shadow of an alley between a bakery and a bamboo-noodle restaurant, she learned that the car was designed for polar bears. She learned this because of the polar bear in a sharply tailored black suit waiting for them with another car, black this time. Before she could question, she was escorted out as the exchange took place without a word. The white bear climbed into the red car without a word and Nick ushered her into the new car, which was more bunny sized than fox-sized. With the seat pushed back all the way, and the steering wheel raised as much as possible, it was drivable though not at all comfortable for the slumped fox. But like the first one, they didn’t stay in it for long. This time they pulled into a public three-story garage where, on the second floor, a skunk waited patiently next to an aged white family sedan that was certainly more fox friendly. After the swap was again made wordlessly, Nick waited for the striped mammal to drive out and followed two minutes later.

    There was another ‘exchange’ that took place when he pulled into another alley, though the bit of trickery that took place there almost had her wondering which car they were supposed to be in. Using a dumpster to block visual on the driver’s side door on the newer, sportier looking car, they exited the sedan like normal. Only when they reached the new car and were hidden from the road by said dumpster, the badger driver simply gave them a nod before driving off. She resisted the urge to peak around the green metal box, which smelled about as friendly as the badger had looked, as she looked up at the handsome red fox with a combination of nervousness and curious energy. After they waited a full five minutes, he quickly led her back to the car and they were off again.

    Judy was loaded with questions, each one almost leaving her muzzle more than once, but it seemed foolish to ask the obvious. They were trying to lose anyone who might be trailing them and, with a single phone call, he had set up at least three throw away cars and mammals who would drive them. Her need to know who he was grew more intense, but she couldn’t risk asking them now. The receipt was important, too important, to let her curiosity about the male beside her delay that or have him change his mind entirely. As much as he seemed to agree with the idea that he worked for her, she wasn’t going to test it in the middle of a cloak and dagger operation that made the ones she had seen in the movies look easy to follow. So, she watched where they were going in silence, aware that they were taking no backroads or pointlessly evasive turns now to get where they were going. Not that she knew where they were going, a fact that irritated her almost as much as her own decision not to question him until she had the receipt in her paws.

    It wasn’t until they reached the markets of Haytown, with the large arches of the bridge growing larger, that she started to understand where they were going. The Witty Arson Bridge crossed into the Nocturnal Ranges, a place that a nocturnal mammal like a fox was sure to have plenty of friends. This almost had her speaking, before he pulled off the main road that would lead to the bridge exit, dashing her idea and making her scowl inwardly as she stared out the window at the passing buildings. A while back, what had been the obvious clutter and larger structures of downtown had become the flash and touristy glamour of Savanna Square and the surrounding buildings. That had faded as they drove until the larger buildings gave way to a more suburban feel. Smaller apartment buildings, townhouses, shopping plazas, one-level office buildings, and eventually warehouses as they drew closer to the waterline.

    Even those buildings came to a rather abrupt end, which surprised her. The undeveloped section of the city looked perfect for further development, with open spaces connected to the road they still followed. Yet she saw no ‘For Sale’ signs, no construction; not even agriculture. It didn’t take long, with the setting sun blocked by the ever-growing bridge to form an early artificial twilight in the area, for her to see the only structure that the road seemed to lead to.

    In a city of massive buildings, it wasn’t the size of the building that was impressive: it was the flare of it all. The glow that seemed to surround it even when there were no lights turned on. It had been a warehouse at one point, of that she was sure. The arching, almost shell-like design of the roof, the square glass windows that were still visible on the front, the large front doors that had been designed to accept shipments from mammals of all sizes, the low and easily accessible location from the road. She was sure that it had been a warehouse.

    It wasn’t a warehouse anymore. The roof had been divided into long downward facing segments of colorful pink, outlined with lights on either side that would bring out the pink in a nice, non-offensive way once lit. The front panels on either side of the door had been replaced with square segments that almost looked like add-on rooms. In fact, they were likely an extension. Before she decided on that, her attention turned to the fact that the building was on a dock over the water, across a short walkway bridge lined with lights, giving the whole thing a high-class appearance that she wasn't exactly sure it should have. In the end, her eyes were drawn to the sign that dominated the front of the building.

     **Wild Times.**

    It wasn’t some massive neon sign that could be seen for miles around. It was a massive wooden sign made up of individual letters painted yellow with red borders. Even when the lights that outlined every letter were turned off, you could easily read it once close enough. But more than that, they also seemed to fit the exterior of the building more than neon would have. It gave the entire building a classic, welcoming feeling without being too obvious about itself. And at the same time, it was made to be noticed by those who were looking for it. The huge star that dotted the ‘i’ in Wild made that clear enough.

    Of course, she knew exactly what this place was.

    “You’re kidding me, right?” she asked in the most cliché way she could as he pulled up to the curb in front of the main entrance. But it was simply too crazy to imagine that he would be bringing her to this… this… “This  _brothel_ is the ‘safe place’ you’re going to leave me?”

    “You need the receipt,” he said calmly, showing no outward sign behind his sunglasses that her outrage had any effect on him at all. “You ordered me to take you somewhere safe. This is the only place I think you will be.”

    Without another word, he popped open his door and stepped out without bothering to turn off the car. Flabbergasted, she scrambled to do the same, hopping down as he rounded the car, fuming and fully prepared to give him the verbal lashing of his life when the front door swung open. The throb of heavy base, background noise until that moment, vibrated through her long ears as the flicker of lights from within the building outlined and left the figure that stepped out mostly hidden in shadow for a moment.

    “Well, well,” came the deep, unamused, masculine voice over the music. A voice that in no way seemed to suit the fox that spoke with it. “After a full week of seeing him on TV confusing the hell out of an entire city, he finally shows up at my door with all the trouble that’s following him.”

    The massive front door did nothing to prepare her for the fox that stepped into the fading light until she could see him clearly. He was, at best, tiny. She was almost certain that he was half her height if the ears were excluded from the equation. The dark sports jacket he wore was open in the front, revealing a white t-shirt over a slim torso and what she could have sworn was a golden, gem-encrusted pacifier hanging from a length of chain around his neck. This didn’t seem to change the fact that somehow this tiny mammal, whose ears were as large as his entire body, came across as intimidating while his shaded gaze lingered on Nick for a long moment. Then that gaze shifted towards her, as he reached up with one paw to lift the sunglasses from amber eyes, sweeping his gaze over her until a small smile played over his narrow muzzle.

    “And would you look,” he said, in a tone that caused her to shift closer to Nick even as he moved closer to the door and the fox that was eyeing her like a piece of meat. “He brought me a bunny.”  
  


    The bubble of indignant fury that rose towards the small fox came on very quickly, as much for the fact that he looked at her in such a way openly as for the suggestion that she was being delivered. About to step around Nick to give them  _both_ a piece of her mind, seasoned with cutting words about where they could stick this idea of her staying here of all places, she stopped when she felt as much as heard a low-toned rumble in the air. Lavender eyes darted up to Nick as the source, which he very clearly was, as the low and almost soundless growl rolled through him. It didn’t grow louder or more aggressive, nor did his stance change to a threatening one so much as he simply stood there, a cold chill nearly radiating from him as he stared at the smaller fox from behind his sunglasses.

    She stared up at him with her nose twitching, her mouth had suddenly gone dry, as her heartbeat quickened to patter against her chest. Even when they had been in mortal danger, Nick had always remained so cool and controlled in his actions. It was so damned fascinating to see any real signs of aggression from him, to feel it in the air so tensely for a few seconds that she had to remind herself to breathe. There was no illusion in her mind that her reaction was fear. The rational part of her mind told her that she should have been frightened by a display of outright aggression, but she wasn’t. She remembered the interview with Weaselton in the ZPD, how she had felt a flash of heat when he had warned the weasel not to speak to her the way he had. It was almost like that, but more intense; more intimate. The understanding of that had her turning her eyes away from him as she swallowed audibly, a little shiver rolling through her as she forced her gaze to the smaller fox.

    Who was grinning up at the larger predator, and then at her as he flipped the sunglasses off entirely and hung them from the front of his shirt.

    “So that’s how it is,” he said, his throaty voice low as he glanced between the two of them for a long moment when the growling died down. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said that the expression on his face was positively delighted, which seemed to be confirmed by the shine in his eyes when he focused his gaze on her. “Don’t worry, Law Buns. I know who you are. Even if bunnies weren’t illegal in Zootopia, wouldn’t want Lover-Todd there to burn down my business for even looking at you. Damn shame, though.”

    Not even sure if that had been a compliment on her attractiveness or an insult that she might make a good prostitute - if there was even a difference between the two in his mind – she found herself unable to reach that mad again. Her nose still twitching slightly, her heart still beating a little too fast, she cast a glance to the fox beside her. When he nodded and placed one paw between her shoulders to lead her forward, an unexpected tremble quaked through her entire body so quickly and intensely that it caused her ears to drop and the fur on the back of her neck to stand on end. This, too, she recognized as anything but a fearful reaction to the touch of the male beside her. Forced to keep her mind focused on where they were, and what they were walking into, she could only hope desperately that Nick was too focused on being…

     _Lover-fox._

    … protective to notice exactly how crazily attractive she found the sudden and territorial reaction towards the other male.

    She turned, forced, her attention from those thoughts to their surroundings as they walked into the only legal brothel still in Zootopia. For the large part, the interior was dimly lit except for the shafts of light that played along the walls and over the floors in a pattern that seemed to match the beat of the music. The place was built to cater to all sizes, obviously. At a glance, she could see that the tables surrounding the bar were divided into sections in a ring pattern around the main bar. The larger tables, obviously intended for huge animals, were on an upper level that circled the wide-open interior, making them the furthest out. On the main level, these tables decreased in size the closer they came to the bar. She realized that each table seemed to be its own self-contained entities; each had chairs, a love seat, a television on a paneled wall facing the love seat, and what she was pretty sure was a stripper pole on top of every table. Even as she felt some indignation return, she became aware that everything looked to be made of light, velvet, silk, and reflective surfaces. If she hadn’t known where she was and what was done here, she might have found the entire setup impressive and beautiful. Almost classy, even.

    Her gaze returned to the fox in front of them as he pulled a small remote out of his jacket pocket and pressed a button. The heavy music and the lights that danced to it were both gone in an instant, leaving her feeling a little deaf as her body still seemed to hum with the bass.

    “Yo, girls!” the fox boomed, his voice easily carrying through the expanse of the now silent building, “We have guests!”

    “We’re still grooming,” came a deeply feminine voice from an open door on the far side of the establishment, causing Judy to crane her neck to see if she could catch an idea of the voice as her ears quivered curiously. “Tell them that they’re early!”

    “Did I say customers, ya hussy?” he demanded, causing Judy to frown as she turned a cool glare towards the small fox. “Now get your fine asses out here and say hello to the city’s newest darlings!”

    “Oh, so we’re hussies now?” came the voice again, though this time it was closer. Judy could have sworn there was humor rather than anger or insult in the tone. A second later, a large, slender and beautiful lioness stepped out of the room, causing Judy’s jaw to unhinge slightly at the sight of the dark golden fur clothed in a long crimson robe that had the shine of silk. “Or were you talking directly to… Nick!”

    The sudden burst of feminine chatter and squeals of excitement from the other side of the door was soon followed by a flood of the females they belonged too. Judy was taken aback, watching with a twitching nose as the stampede of females of various species – most of them half naked, wearing only lingerie and undergarments – rushed across the room in seeming excitement to see Nick. From a small and slender weasel, to a flame-furred vixen wearing a pure white teddy over a pleasantly narrow body, to a tigress who seemed just as excited as the rest to see the much smaller male, and a sheep who had wool as fluffy and white as she had ever seen around her neck and a fantastic, sheered body below it in a bra and panties that left very little to the imagination.

    There were more, many more, but she lost track when they started to crowd around them in a wave of perfume and more than a few feminine voices. It was so completely out of her element. All of it was making her head spin slightly, a mixture of confusion and fear, which had her drawing closer to Nick as the group of females murmured about them.

    “Nick, where have you been?”

    “We’ve missed you, you handsome devil fox.”

    “We saw you on the news! Is this your client?”

    “I didn’t realize she was so cute!”

    “Are you going to stay tonight? I can clear my schedule!”

    “Me, too!”

    “Quiet! I asked first.”

    “Maybe he can handle you both.”

    “He could handle all of us, I bet.”

    The confusion was quick to burn away as anger rose as quickly as the heated blush inside of her ears. Lavender eyes narrowed as she turned her gaze to the first of the females who had offered to spend the night with him, feeling her stomach tighten when she faced the beautiful - if overly perfumed – vixen. All uneasiness at the sudden arrival of the attractive females was gone as her gaze turned into a glare as she pressed into Nick’s side. As she had hoped, he took this as a need for comfort. At least, she thought he did when his paw returned to her back and drew her closer to his side. The sudden and intense silence that followed was as deafening as it had been when the music had been turned off as the females looked at the two of them with open curiosity, surprise, and even a hint of annoyance from the vixen.

     Satisfaction was followed by a jolt when she felt something brush her butt. Thinking one of the females might have gotten bold, she turned quickly only to see that Nick had wrapped his tail around her as casually as he had his arm. Her blush deepened as a surprised thrill raced through her, interrupted by Finnick’s voice from the bar.

    “Cute, right?” he said, sitting with the only female who hadn’t rushed over to investigate the pair. Sitting with wasn’t exactly right. The sharp-featured lioness was stretched out on her side on top of the bar, curled up and looking every bit as regal as her appearance seemed to suggest she should. Sitting in front of her and leaning back against the curve of her belly, was the tiny fox who looked very much like the king of the world surrounded in the crimson and gold of the female as she stroked his large ears. “They’re twitterpated.”

    “I’m not so sure. This is Nick we’re talking about,” the mature lioness said in a silk-wrapped gravel tone, almost looking bored as her tail twitched over the bar. She then slapped her paw onto the bar-top twice loudly. “All right, enough gawking. Give them room and go get yourselves ready! You all have clients to tend to later tonight.”

    Judy watched in silence as the group of females collectively gave little sounds of disappointment as they rose from their tight ring around Nick and started back towards the back room again. She found that very little of this was exactly what she had expected. The building was exceptionally clean and well designed; not one of the females looked downtrodden or unkempt; the theme wasn’t overly gaudy or deeply focused on sex. When Finnick had shown up on her list of contacts for possible protection, she had envisioned a grimy pit, mostly shadowed and filled with females that were only looking for a way out. The various females didn’t look or sound like anything less than a group of does gossiping about bucks back in Bunnyburrow as they crossed the room, some pausing to give a last glance or a wave to Nick before vanishing through the door.

    The constant feeling of perplexity and disquiet was starting to annoy her, however, so she shoved them aside and straightened herself as she tugged out of Nick’s reach reluctantly. Clearing her throat, she glanced at Finnick before she grabbed Nick’s arm to draw him down to her level.

    “You’re seriously leaving me here,” she whispered, as she reached up and yanked the sunglasses from his muzzle so she could look into his eyes. The tough fox routine was just adding to her annoyance, even if it was the truth of him in pretty much every way. “Is this place even legal?”

    “Perfectly legal,” Finnick said, causing her to jump slightly as she turned to face him. “And these ears aren’t just to make me look good, Law Buns, any more than those buns are just to make you look hot in that suit.”

    “Then stop focusing on them,” she snapped, frowning as she crossed her arms over her chest facing him and the lioness who had remained behind only to serve as his chair. At least, that was how it looked to Judy. “And my name is Judith Hopps. You can call me Miss Hopps.”

    “She does have a spine,” the lioness said in a near purr, an approving smirk showing twin rows of sharp, predatory teeth. “And a nice butt.”

    “Can everyone stop looking at my ass for one minute?” she demanded, turning to glare at Nick for putting her in this position. And in a place where the females seemed to absolutely  _adore_ him, which was enough to make her temper start to rise again. “This is the only safe place you know?”

    “He is the only one I would trust to leave you with,” he confirmed, causing her to wonder what kind of male could gain the trust of a fox whom no one in the entire city seemed to know, “And this is one of the last places anyone in the city would think you might end up.”

    “How long will this take?”

    “I don’t know,” he replied simply, placing one paw on her shoulder when she turned to face him. He had remained on her level and held her eyes now as he continued, “But you know I’m not going to take any longer than is needed. I will be back as soon as I have what you need.”

    “I’ll bet you already have what she needs,” Finnick snorted lightly, causing her ears to burn as Nick cast him an annoyed glance.

    Too embarrassed by the statement to be angry, she released a slow sigh as she testily brushed his paw from her shoulder. “Then go get it. And… Be careful.”

    “I’m always careful,” he replied, giving her a small grin before drawing himself to his feet facing the bar. “I expect this place to be in flames and filled with blood and bodies before you let anything happen to her.”

    “Oh, I already got that part of it,” the smaller male replied with his first truly serious expression, toying with the chain around his neck idly as he watched the other Todd. “But I want an explanation when you get back. Or should I just grill the bunny?”

    “Her name is Judy,” Nick said shortly, reaching up to adjust his tie and straighten his jacket. It was a habit, she realized; something he did when he was preparing himself or trying to calm down. While it came off as smooth because of the ease of the motion, it was as much a nervous tick as her foot thumping had been before she broke that habit. “And you can grill her all you want. Just expect to be grilled in return and verbally dominated if you try.”

    “Oh, I would love to see that,” the lioness crooned in ample delight at the idea, causing the smaller male to roll his eyes up at her as she gently scratched between his ears.

    “Yeah, I just bet you would,” she heard him say, though she didn’t take her eyes off Nick as he turned to head for the door. Her unease grew the further away he got from her, until she forced herself to calm down. She was perfectly capable of existing without him, even if this was one of the last places on earth she would  _want_ to exist at all. When he reached the door, she saw him pause for a moment before he called over his shoulder.

    “And keep the males away from her, Fin,” he said, his voice cool and easy. Calm as it might have been, even she could see the spark in his eye when he finished, “or I’ll be the one filling this place with blood and bodies.”

    With that, he turned and left, though his parting words did make her feel better in a strange, simply visceral way. That faded when she turned and found that the fennec fox didn’t look at all intimidated. In fact, he and the lioness were both grinning at her widely.

    “Oh, sweet Law Buns,” he said, rubbing his paws together like an evil genius about to take over the world, “do I have questions for you.”


	22. Weighing of The Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued patience and love for our little project. ...LOL Little....
> 
> Anyway! [You can find the comic here!](https://www.deviantart.com/thewyvernsweaver/art/Sunderance-Chapter-21-1-Weighing-of-the-Heart-751378362)
> 
> Enjoy and do let us know what you think of this version of Finnick. ;)

        It was only by grace of the arrival of customers that Judy was able to escape the clutches of the tiny, perverted fox. She had known who Finnick was from the moment she had compiled her list of possible means of protection and, because of his business, she had left him as the absolute last on her list of mammals to call. Paying for protection with sexual favors had not been a price she was willing to pay, as she had discussed with Nick, and given his business, it seemed likely to her that it might have been a part of whatever price the last pimp in Zootopia would want. And given his behavior so far, her thoughts seemed justified.

        She sat in front of the computer in the sound-proof side office that he had ‘graciously’ provided her when it came time for customers to start arriving, but only after reminding her that there would be questions as soon as everything on the floor had settled down enough. It was obvious that he thought she wouldn’t be able to handle what went on in a brothel of this size, and for once she was grateful for his attitude. Or maybe he was heeding Nick’s warning about keeping the males away from her? Either way, it had worked to her benefit as she flipped through the various files Flash had sent to her again.

        With the various text documents and legal files bringing nothing new to light, she turned her attention to the many images. While she and Nick had looked through them the first time, many of them had seemed pointless and many more had gone unseen after the discovery of receipt lead. Now she took her time, examining each image with equal intensity to see if there was anything any of them could do to support her case. She created a few secondary folders within the main, allowing her to sort images by possible leads, most likely junk, and obviously important. The number of items that were going into the most likely junk folder was not surprising, though after the first few minutes it did become disheartening.

        In the end, of the hundreds of images, only twenty of them were possible leads and five were obviously important. No new information in any of them but they could still be used to help build her case, though she wouldn’t be able to show them in court. That meant she would need to go over the legal case files again to see how much of it could be verified with forensic photos.

        Not knowing how much time she had, she turned her attention to the videos that remained un-played. The dim lighting in the room and the utter silence provided by the soundproof walls that kept her separate from the music worked along with the dull and generally unimportant videos to cause her attention and mind to wander. Leaving the player on autoplay she watched one after the other for fifteen minutes, most of them short news clips already available online. It became so monotonous that she had to force herself to focus, blinking rapidly to keep her eyes from getting heavy.

        Then the fifteenth video clip started, the pitch-black image and noise of the shot drew her full attention again. Ears perked forward as she realized that she heard voices, though at first they were indistinct and impossible to understand. The stern tone of one voice and the passive one that replied had her raising her ears and straining to understand. Just as she started to get frustrated, the stern tone went silent and all that was left was the sound of a door sliding closed and shuffling for a moment before whatever had been covering the camera was removed.

        The scene she was greeted with made a wince curl her muzzle.

        The room was brightly lit, though there was a feeling of stillness within. It was an expansive office with a very Spartan, almost military feel to it. It only took her a moment to understand why when the camera panned around until she was given a view of a large desk, and the old blood that ran down and pooled at the foot of it. She knew then that she was looking at the crime scene where General Valter had been murdered, something that had never reached the media because of the top-secret nature of Maleperduis.

        “Are you out of your mind?” a voice hissed, causing whoever was holding the camera to turn it to face the speaker. The jerky motion, lack of quality, and the odd point of view had her quickly understanding that it wasn’t being held: it was on his shoulder or chest, which explained how he had managed to get it into the military base. Something that the male kudu seemed aware was a bad idea if his expression, halfway between frightened and annoyed, was any indication.

        “We’re here to do a job, so keep it down,” the cameramammal said, keeping his voice low enough so that she had to turn the volume up to hear it, the camera jerking when he shrugged before he turned his attention to the desk again. “Think this is what he’s after?”

        “How should I know?” came the terse reply as the camera moved closer to the desk. “We’re just here to clean up, remember.”

        “Shut up,” came the quick, angry reply, “I know that!”

        “No, you shut up!”

        “No, you shut up!”

        She rolled her eyes at the sudden argument and tuned them out as they went back and forth until the deep growl of a voice from outside told them both to shut up. Instead, her frown deepened slightly at the blood stains on the surface of the desk. One was clearly just a puddle of old, brownish red blood. It was the other that had her attention, and clearly the attention of the ‘cleaning crew’ as the camera zoomed in for a closer look.

        “What do you think it means, Pronk?”

        “Not sure,” was the reply, this time in a lower, even-tempered tone that was obviously just a result of the warning just received, “but we’re not here to understand it.”

        The camera circled the desk for a full 360-degree view of the pattern. At first, she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. It was smeared and unclear, the drying of the blood making the pattern less obvious that it might have been in the mind of the male who had written it. It wasn’t until the angle had the gruesome drawing upside down that it dawned on her. It was like an indistinct face with two eyes staring, surrounded on three sides by nine markings. How Valter had managed to include such detail while bleeding to death was beyond her. But it was clear that she had seen this symbol before.

        It was the same as the one engraved on Nick’s baton.

 

* * *

 

 

        The music wasn’t as loud as it had been when the door to Wild Times had first opened. It was still loud, but not so loud that it would drown out the normal conversation with someone sitting across the table. That was a relief to her ears, though nothing was a relief to her eyes and sensibilities when she walked onto the main floor of the brothel.

        Everywhere around her were males and females paired off, in private booths or tables in various stages of what she supposed would be considered the mating game. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought that it was any other club. There was talking, dancing, and more than a little kissing and nibbling going on for more than two dozen couples around the main bar. On the outside, most of them looked no different from any other couple she had seen in Bunnyburrow spending a night out on the town. It didn’t take much to remind herself that that was just the surface, a surface that made her cringe when she saw one tiger stand and extend his hand towards his tigress escort. She turned her eyes away just as the lovely female reached up to accept his paw with a gracious smile, turning her attention back to her search for the owner of it all.

        She saw him standing on the bar, a drink in one hand and his eyes on the room. As much as it would have been easy to say that he looked relaxed, her years of dealing with lawyers and crooks had taught her to look closer for the truth. He was watching every single mammal around him with the keen eye of someone looking out for any sign of trouble, causing her to slow her steps a bit. Something that she regretted, when it seemed to draw the attention of a patron.

        “Holy hell,” the throaty voice beside her said, drawing her gaze to the leopard who jumped down from one of the bar stools. He cut a line straight towards her, grinning toothily. His eyes and odd gait warned her that he was heading towards intoxicated as quickly as he was heading towards her. “They actually have bunnies here! And look at those hips!”

        She managed to narrow her eyes even as she backpedaled, somewhere between panic and annoyance at the approach of the far larger predator. Then the obviously delighted male was brought to a sudden stop by a sound so sharp and loud that she and everyone in the immediate area jumped. Her ears perked towards Finnick, who held the source of the sound in one diminutive paw: a painted wooden bat, which was now pointed directly at the nervous leopard.

        “The bunny is not one of the girls,” he snarled coldly and despite the size difference, it was the larger one that quickly backed down even as Finnick continued, “And what have I told you about letting the girl come to you? If I need to tell you again, I’m banning your tail!”

        “Sorry, Fin,” the unnamed leopard said, his tone as submissive as the set of his ears as he turned his eyes to Judy. “Sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to…”

        “Yeah, yeah, she gets it,” Finnick interrupted as he walked over the bar towards them, waving the bat towards the door. It was pretty amusing to see the mammals at the bar lift their drinks to let him pass. “Now, get out. No ass for you tonight. Come back tomorrow with a working memory and less alcohol.”

        “Aw, come on! I…” the spotted male started to protest, only to cut himself short when the bat waved in front of his muzzle. “Okay, okay. I’ll make an appointment on my way out?”

        “Yeah, you do that,” the sandy furred fox said coolly, then his smile turned friendly so suddenly that Judy was pretty sure her head would spin off. “I’m sure Cindy is looking forward to it.”

        Judy followed the leopard’s progress as he quickly made his way towards the door. He hesitated for a minute at the door, turning his eyes out over the main floor. His expression could easily have been called longing for a moment before his ears dropped and he slipped past the polar bear that was watching the door. Curious, she followed his gaze until she realized he had been looking at the same door all the females had come from to greet Nick.

        “Don’t worry about him,” Finnick’s surprisingly deep voice interrupted her thoughts, drawing her gaze up to the bar. “He’s actually only interested in one of my girls. But a fine-looking bunny like yourself is a curiosity to say the least, considering that most mammals have only seen a naked bunny on the internet.”

        “I’m not naked,” she corrected him, then flushed deeply when he ran his eyes up and down her form for a moment with a grin.

        “Yeah, the whole ‘undressing her with his eyes’ isn’t just for sappy romance novels and poorly worded pickup lines,” he said, causing her to narrow her eyes before he gestured with the bat as he walked towards his perch on the bar again. “Come up here with me, Law Buns. No one will bother you, and if you’re out here, I’m thinkin’ you have something to say.”

        Begrudgingly, she accepted his invitation and made her way towards the end of the bar. Rolling her eyes when he plopped down and patted the spot on the bar beside him, she bent her knees and leap up in one jump, landing neatly beside him. She made a point of staying on her feet and a bit further away than he had indicated, her arms folded over her chest. Keeping her ears upright and her stance hard, she looked down at the grinning fox.

        “I have questions about Nick,” she said, getting right to the point. She didn’t really want to be out here any longer than she needed to be.

        “Really?” he said, with an expression of such pure delight that she had to restrict the groan to an inner sigh of resignation. “Well, that’s funny because I have questions, too. How about we play a game of fair trade practices: I’ll let you ask one question, and then I get to ask a question. We both have to tell the truth to the best of our ability. If we can’t answer the question, then whoever asked gets to ask another one. Deal?”

        “Deal,” she agreed, thinking that was about as fair as she was going to get in this situation. Finnick did hold all the cards, and hopefully at least some of the answers she was looking for. She decided not to wait for a coin flip or whatever would decide who went first. “Who is he?”

        “Right to it then,” was his first reply, coming to a pause as he narrowed his gaze at her. “You mean, you don’t know?”

        “You can’t answer a question with another question, even if the answer to that question is obvious,” she said simply, her stance unchanged as she watched him closely.

        “Fair enough, fair enough,” he said, reaching over to pick up his drink again. Whatever it was, the sweet scent of fruit was almost overpowered by the scent of the liquor inside of it. “You would start with one I can’t actually answer. He’s Nick; he’s been a friend and partner for a long time now and has been a pain in my tail for just as long. Anything beyond that’s his business.”

        “That doesn’t answer the question,” she said, doing her best to keep her foot from thumping. When he shrugged and waved his free paw for her to continue, she understood that he accepted that as true. “Why can’t you tell me who he is?”

        “Because he will tell you if he wants you to know. And if I tell you before he wants you to know, he’ll be angry.”

        “Does that mean he…”

        “Ah-ah-ah, Law Buns,” he said, grinning up at her with his huge ears perked and eager. “Now it’s my turn. And the burning question on every mind in here that matters is… How long have you two been banging?”

        “I… W-what?” she sputtered, feeling heat slide up her spine and flood her each and cheeks as the audacity of the question. It only lasted for a moment, though, before she ground her teeth together as she regained her composure. “We haven’t ‘banged’ at all.”

        She had to give it to him, he was better at this game than she was. She could see from the question burning in his eyes her answer had somehow managed to surprise him, but he didn’t ask as he waved his paw towards her for her to take her turn. Struggling to remember what her previous question had been, she decided instead to ask the next one on her mind.

        “You said he’s been a friend of yours for a while. How long have you known him?”

        “Hm. That’s a good question,” he admitted before taking another sip of his drink before answering, “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know him, really. Since he was a kit, really, not quite old enough to think about vixens. Or bunnies in his case. And what do you mean you haven’t slept with him?”

        “We just haven’t,” she admitted, now taking the questions as smoothly as she might have taken a hard-cross examination in court. “Why do you think we have?”

        “Because it radiates off of you both,” the small fox snorted as he met her gaze with dark amber eyes. “If I didn’t know Nick, I might have thought you two were just here to try to rent a room for the night. I’m surprised he didn’t lift you onto this very spot on the bar, bend you over, and…”

        “I get your point!” she said, raising a paw to her face to cover her eyes for a moment as she tried to wipe that mental image from her mind. Whatever her next question had been, it was brushed aside by something that was eating away at her just as much. “He seems to know the girls well.”

        “That wasn’t a question, Law Buns,” he said, though from the toothy smirk crawling up his muzzle she knew that he could already see the question coming. He just wanted to hear her ask it.

        “Does he,” she began, then stopped herself as she reconsidered. She would ask another question, something that actually meant something to the case instead of focusing on Nick. “Does her ever use your services?”

        Well, so much for keeping it relevant to the case.

        “’Use my services’ she says,” was his first reply, followed by a long burst of laughter that had her frowning at the bar top before she squared her shoulders and waited for his answer. Once he managed to contain his obvious joviality at the phrasing, the still snickering male looked up at her. “Even though it was my turn, I’ll give you a freebie on this one simply because I’m not in the business of screwing up something that so obviously  _needs_  to happen. I offer multiple ‘services’ to Nick and the only service he refuses is the one that this establishment specialized in. Meaning, no. He’s never sampled my girls before.”

        She mulled over this in silence for a moment, a silence that he did grant her for a good ten seconds before he asked his question.

        “You want him, don’t you?”

        “Are all of these questions going to revolve around whether or not I’m going have sex with Nick?” she asked tersely, though she feared she already knew the answer.

        “Abso-fucking-lutely,” he said, hide grin only widening as he waved his paw towards the room around them. “For one thing, pretty much every female in here has been dying for a chance to get into that foxes custom tailored pants. If I don’t have some answers, I’m going to get my ears chewed off. And they make up fifty percent of my height as it is. For another, I haven’t seen Nick interested in a female in a very long time and he’s certainly never growled at  _me_ over one. And last… That was the second question I answered. So I get to ask another one after you answer the question.”

        “Ugh,” she muttered, running her paw over her ears in annoyance at the fact that was right. Nick’s idea that she would verbally dominate him had not taken into account how little she knew about the mysterious fox compared to who seemed to be his best friend. “Yes. I am attracted to him.”

        “Attracted,” the sandy colored fox snorted, setting his drink aside. “Every female within half a mile of him is attracted. That doesn’t mean they’re thoughts wander to taking him into a dark room and not coming out until you’re both dehydrated and half dead.”

        “Fine! Yes, alright,” she said, her voice raised a little higher than she might have wanted it. “I want him! He’s ridiculously appealing! I’ve already been tempted four times now to strip down to my fur and say, ‘I’m all yours, Nick.’ I walked around in front of him wearing nothing but panties and a too short nightshirt just to see if it got a rise out of him. I almost crawled into his lap once! Next. Question.”

        The sound of clapping from behind her had her turning quickly, seeing the lioness standing there with a many-toothed grin on her muzzle. She fought the urge to groan and bury her face in her paws to hide her face, opting instead to release a slow sigh to regain control of herself as the larger female spoke.

        “Such passion,” she said, her tone filled with a throaty purr as she slowly climbed up on the bar as she had before. Judy noticed that the eyes of half a dozen males followed her as she did it. This was something that the lioness was undoubtedly aware of given how she swayed her hips and rear before she settled down on her side, reached out with one massive paw, and dragged Finnick into the curve of her body. She continued as he leaned back into her belly without missing a beat, “Can I ask your next question, Trunk?”

        “Feel free.”

        “Hm,” she purred gratefully as her tawny eyes turned to Judy. “Have you two – How should I put this – ever talked about your mutual case of hot-pants for each other?”

        “Yes,” she said in a low voice, then drew a breath and spoke more clearly. “We had dinner. We discussed it then. I don’t think I ever knew the name of the restaurant. There was no sign.”

        She hadn’t expected the surprised reaction that she received, particularly from Finnick who had been mid-drink and nearly choked on it before his eyes narrowed on her.

        “He took you to Lochlann’s place?”

        “Yeah,” she said, drawing out the word as she narrowed her eyes at him in turn. “That was the otter’s name. Is that important?”

        The fox and lioness exchanged surprised glances, Zira’s ears pinning back for a moment before both pairs of eyes focused on her again.

        “That falls under the category of ‘things Nick never does’ Law Buns,” Finnick said, setting his drink aside as he eyed her with a much deeper sort of interest than before. “And answers a lot of questions I was gonna ask. So, as unfair as the tilt is right now, I’ll answer yours for now. Ask away.”

        Feeling that it was something of a dodge, she knew he was trying to change the subject by giving her what she wanted without any further questions about her sex life. As tempting as it was to question him on why being taken to that specific restaurant was so important, she couldn’t pass up the chance to ask the questions she felt she really needed to know the answers to.

        “All right,” she murmured, deciding to slide in easily, “Has he ever done bodyguard work before?”

        “Not that I’ve ever seen.”

        “Oh,” she mumbled, considering the answer in silence for a moment. He seemed so fully competent in protecting her, that the answer was not the one she had expected. In more ways than one. “Is he wealthy?”

        “That would fall under the ‘who is he’ category of questions,” was the snorted reply, causing her no end of frustration.

        She would have to dance around a little, then.

        “You said you provide other services for him,” she said, folding her arms over her chest again as she looked down at the smaller male. “Are you the one who acquired the suits that cost him one-hundred and fifty-thousand Bucks?”

        “How did you..?” he began, then frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest to mirror her defensive stance. “He didn’t  _tell_ you about that, did he?”

        “I’ve seen the receipt,” she supplied, causing the fox to roll his eyes slightly.

        “Fine then,” he said, his tone only mildly annoyed as he turned his eyes out over the main floor again. She felt compelled to follow his gaze, seeing that at least half of the mammals that had been their before had vanished. It wasn’t hard to figure out where, where she saw a she-wolf leading a male wolf through a doorway. She diverted her attention back to Finnick, trying to keep her mind off what was going on around her. “Yes, I supplied the suits.”

        “Did he tell you how he plans to pay for them?”

        “He paid up front,” was the hesitant answer, followed by a slight tilt of his head towards her. “Why don’t you ask what’s really on your mind there, Law Buns?”

        “I’m not sure,” she murmured, frowning slightly at the doubt that was inching into every question that she wanted to ask. But there was one that she needed the answer to, regardless of those doubts. “Is he capable of murder?”

        “Murder, huh?” the smaller mammal grunted, tilting his head back as Zira started to scratch the top of his head between the ears. “That’s a subject jump.”

        “It’s the last question,” she admitted, having to force herself not to shuffle her feet over the bar as she held his gaze.

        “Depends on what you mean by ‘murder’,” was his reply, followed by a shrug as he drew himself to his feet with his now empty glass in paw. “Would he kill for you? The whole city knows the answer to that question. It seems to me, though, that most of these questions were meant for him anyway.”

        “What do you mean?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

        “You want to know him? Stop dancing around the subject,” he said, shrugging as he held the glass out until the robotic ‘Bartender’s Helper’ arm took it and dropped it into soapy water. “Ask him. If he doesn’t want to answer, you make him answer.”

        “It’s not that simple,” she murmured, though in a way she shared the frustration that was obvious in his expression.

        “Yeah, yeah. He’s a badass and you have a case to win. You can’t get tangled up.” He snorted, this time jumping up to sit on Zira’s hip. She didn’t seem to mind, even when he patted her rump for good measure. “I’ve only known you for a few hours and I can tell that you both have problems with getting your tails in gear. And I’m not just talking about this ‘getting to know you’ shit. You have guts, obviously, except when it comes to him. If you did, you  _would’ve_  dropped your pants those four times you were tempted. And if he had half a brain in his head, he would have taken you up on those offers.”

        “But I don’t really know him,” she shot back, frowning at being lectured by a pimp of all mammals.

        “And that’s your fault. And his,” he returned, shaking his head before leaning back to lie against the paw Zira placed behind him. “Talk it out, Law Buns. You obviously want to know him, in both the literal and biblical sense. And chances are, you’re not going to get either until you face up to how much you want both.”

                                                                                             

     

 


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